


No Redemption Whatsoever

by Anonymous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Armor Kink, Bestiality, Body Modification, Boypussy, Boypussy Steve Rogers, Breast Fucking, Bukkake, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Slut, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Comeplay, Consensual Sex, Crossdressing (if you blink), Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty talk so much dirty talk, Don't Expect any kind of anatomical realism here, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Figging, Gangbang, Honka Honka, Human cocksleeve, Humiliation, IF YOU READ THIS YOU HAVE ONLY YOURSELF TO BLAME, Knotting, Knotting in Pussy, Knotting in vagina, Lack of a safeword, M/M, Male Lactation, Name Calling, No Plot, Objectification, PORN ONLY, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safewording, Sloppy Hole, Sloppy Seconds, Slut Shaming, Steve Rogers Gets Tits, Steve Rogers Gets his Tits Fucked, Steve is CONSENTING, Steve's Tits are seriously objectified, Unhealthy Sexual Relationship, Watersports, cockslut steve, foot worship, human condom, human urinal, i have warned you, nothing else, piss drinking, pregnancy fetish, so much bad name calling, so much porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 19:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17269613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Steve is Tony's personal whore. A fucktoy that Tony's preparing for Thanos.Filth, filth and nothing but filth.Part 1: A day in the life of cock slut whore Steve.Part 2: Steve screws up, so Tony leaves him at SHIELD for a day as punishment.Part 3: Alternate ending for Part 2 with Steve safewording.Part 4: Steve wanted tits. Steve got tits.Part 5: Steve gets punished for cuming without permission.Part 6: Alternate universe ending for Part 5 with loving aftercare.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I will see you all in hell?
> 
> Read the fucking tags.

Tony wakes up with his cock surrounded by incredible warmth.

"Hmm," he groans, settling back into the pillows, the soft sheets feeling luxurious against his bare skin.

The soft, wet flesh around his cock bobs with his movements, the head grasped by the tightness of his slut's throat.

He reaches with one hand to run fingers through the soft tendrils of its hair.

The slut, encouraged by the gesture, starts working harder, bobbing up and down his shaft, taking him deeper.

Tony's eyes are still closed, relaxed against the pillows, just enjoying the sensations.

It's nice, having a live-in, wet hole as a cumdumpster.

He takes his time, even though he has got places to be this morning, and really savors the feeling when he gets over that edge, coming down its throat. Like a good little slut, it swallows it all down.

He opens his eyes, to see the sunlight streaming through the bedroom curtains and his little cockslut kneeling over his thighs, his cock still held warm in its throat.

He runs a hand through it's blonde hair - wherever it's loose enough to flow through his fingers. The rest of its scalp still has dried cakes of cum from last night, along with its forehead, cheeks and eyebrows where some it's crusting horribly.

It's going to need a thorough cleaning, but Tony isn't yet ready to get out of bed. Not yet. 

He releases his bladder down its throat, and it dutifully drinks up.

He gets comfortable on the bed again, glad to stay in bed for five more minutes with his cock warm.

~

He sends the slut for it's morning cleaning, and goes through the rest of his morning routine. He has emails to check, meetings to attend, and several hours to spend in the workshop. 

In the kitchen, JARVIS helpfully projects his inbox onto the granite counter, while he gets himself a bowl of oatmeal. The slut shows up, face and hair clean of Tony's cum, crawling in on its knees.

"Spot check," he says, taking his eyes off his email for a minute. These sluts are too high maintenance for some people, but Tony thinks investing the time results in more pleasure in the long run.

The slut shuffles on its hands and knees, showing Tony it's gaping, pink hole (now sparkling clean). Tony presses down between it's shoulder blades, making it bite the carpet. "Display mode."

The slut reaches back with steady hands to pull apart it's cheeks (not red enough, he will take care of that later) further. It's not really necessary, because its hole is quite clearly open and visible, rim puffy like a pussy, but Tony likes the classics for a reason.

Jarvis helpfully throws a beam of light from one of the ceiling lamps, on the hole. Tony feels around with a couple of fingers. Smooth, hot, velvet. Lovely.

"Did it close up at all, Jay?"

"No sir," Jarvis replies. "I believe we have finally beaten the elasticity of the muscle."

"Ensure it doesn't wander unstuffed around the place," he orders. "I don't want it making a mess all over the pristine floors."

"Yes, sir," Jarvis accepts. Tony roots around in one of the kitchen drawers for a plug, but finds nothing clean. 

"Slut," he admonishes. "Did you forget your chores yesterday?" He opens another drawer - spoons, ladles, coffee filters but not a plug in sight. 

He looks in the sink, and sure enough, there are three big ones, yet to be cleaned, lying abandoned.

The slut's blue eyes widen in realization, followed abruptly by fear. 

"Can't you do anything right?" he snaps. "Literally good for nothing except being a hole. Not even tight enough these days."

"Sir, if I may," Jarvis says. "The fridge. Second shelf to the right."

Sure enough, when Tony opens it, he finds the bin of carved ginger roots where Jarvis indicated. They are exactly the right size and shape. He grabs two long, thick ones.

"Jarvis," Tony states. "You're a life-saver. Come here, whore."

It shuffles forward, mouth still pressed to the floor, ass high in the hair. He pushes in the two ginger phalluses at once, watching it wince in pain.

"Well," he says. "If you forget your chores, you have to make do with the fucking ginger. I don't want to hear it, cum dump. Already made me late for my first meeting, and I haven't even finished my emails. Here, breakfast."

He pulls his cock out of his trousers and pees over the floor, getting some of it in its hair. "Lap up your meal, finish your chores, and then clean up the workshop. I don't have time to clean up after your fucking messes, do you understand?" He walks around the bitch again, pulls out the ginger and feeds the pussy some urine before he is done. He replaces the ginger back in the gaping hole, and proceeds to wash his hands at the sink. "Jarvis, anyone renting it today?"

"Agent Barton requested it at eleven am for target practice," Jarvis answers. "I believe Dr. Banner may need it later in the afternoon."

"Good, let's keep it busy," Tony agrees. "Bring it to the workshop when it's done."

"Yes, sir. Have a good day."

*

 At eleven am, the slut arrives in Agent Barton's quarters and waits, because it knows Barton's preferences. 

Agent Barton is not alone, he is with Sam Wilson, the Falcon. 

"Get in here, hole," Agent Barton calls. The slut crawls on its hands and knees toward the dining room where a huge billiards table is placed to the side. 

"Ooh," Falcon says. "That's rather neat, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Clint answers. "Tony lets me borrow it. Does it good to be used constantly. Should have seen it when it started. Tight as a virgin bitch. Tony does good work with it."

"Is it loose enough now?"

"Like a fucking whore, doesn't even need prep anymore. Poor thing can't sleep without being full, can ya, you cumdrinker?"

"Oh hello, what's this? Ginger?" Wilson has found the evidence of the slut's dishonor.

"Forgot your chores again, did ya?" Clint laughs, coming around to play with the slut's hole. He removes the ginger, sticks in two fingers and pulls until the pink of its walls is visible. "Did master punish you with the ginger? Bet it burns. Do I have to go roll it up in some paprika before I stick it back in, or are ya gonna be good for us?"

The slut doesn't answer because it knows better. Besides, its focused on making sure that master's pee doesn't flow out. 

"Stick it in the front hole, please," Barton hands the ginger to Wilson, who comes around to stick them in the slut's mouth. It burns it's tongue, while smelling distinctly of urine and it's ass. 

"You wanna start the game?" Wilson asks. "Don't forget, you promised to make me as good at Billiards as you."

"Jeez, can't a man play with the gaping pussy before a game of billiards."

"Hurry up, I got places to be."

"Alright fuckhole," Barton tugs the toy to it's feet and moves it bodily to a corner of the billiards table, it's back pressed to the table's edge. Barton kicks its ankles to make it spread 'em. "Bend down and grab your ankles."

It obeys wordlessly, and hears Wilson adjust the height of the table accordingly. Through his legs, it can see Wilson remove the thick block of wood running around the edge of the table like a margin. Barton moves the whore again until it's hole is in the position where the table's natural pocket would be.

"Since you are a beginner," Barton says to Wilson, "I figured you would find it easier if the pocket were a little bigger than the one in the traditional billiards table. Now that we got the biggest hole in these parts, let's start."

For the next half hour, Barton explains the game and it's rules to Wilson, and shows different moves using the whore's hole as a pocket. The hole is gaping wide enough to act as a sufficient pocket for their practice. Through it all, the slut holds on to the ginger in its mouth pussy, occasionally sucking on it like it were a real cock. The first few attempts by Wilson don't actually land, but then Barton takes over and the slut feels one, two, three huge balls go in to it's boypussy, each one clinking against the last one, pushing further inside.

His walls burn at the stretch, but he can still comfortably hold them in it's ass. Barton comes around to retrieve the three, and he jabs at it's walls with a rough, calloused finger. 

The balls come out, and they play some more until Barton is satisfied with Wilson's aim. After Wilson lands two consecutive ones into the slut's hole, Barton lets Wilson have a reward. 

"Slut," he drags the whore to Wilson on it's knees, two balls still in it's pussy. "Sam's nice enough to give you his cock. Push out the balls, so he can get inside."

It tries, trying to concentrate and push out the first one. It's rim widens around it, burning at the stretch, but the slut can't push it out.

"You push it out, or I make him go in while the balls are still in there."

That gets it moving. It takes several minutes but it pushes out both the balls. They land on the wooden floor with a thump and roll away. 

"I will make you pick them up later," Barton says. "All yours, Sam."

Wilson grabs onto the slut's hips and slides home. 

"Ugh," he says. "I barely feel a thing."

"That's not nice," Barton pulls at the slut's hair. "Tighten up for Mr. Wilson, cumdump."

The slut works its muscles on Mr. Wilson's thick, long cock. 

"Oh that's better, but still not - something's missing."

Mr. Barton grabs the cue off the table and sticks it in beside Mr. Wilson's cock, the thick end first. The slut whines around the ginger root. 

"Much better. It's tighter now." 

The Falcon begins thrusting, while tilting the pool cue up and down, stretching the whore's rim. He starts slow, but then gets fast and rough with his fucking. 

"Why is it so wet?"

"It served this morning as Sir's urinal," Jarvis answers. "He apologizes for any inconvenience, and for the poor state of his amenity."

"Are you serious?"

"Indeed," Jarvis answers. "It enjoys being a urinal more than a cumdumpster. You are welcome to utilise the facilities."

Wilson grunts his agreement, while the slut focuses on not coming. It does not want to be punished for coming without permission by Mr. Barton. Mr. Barton gets the most creative with punishments.

"How is the pussy?" Barton asks, stripping his own cock in front of the whore. 

"Sloppy loose," Wilson says. "Like I am fucking the world's loosest hole."

"You are," Barton says. "It's why I don't go into it's boypussy any more. Feels like a hundred football teams have taken a turn in its cum container."

"Jesus," Wilson says, speeding up his thrusts and filling up the whore's channel with his warm, thick cum. Barton follows suit, coming all over the whore's face, landing some on the ends of the ginger roots visible outside the cumdump's mouth. The cum dump isn't allowed to clean up, not until Tony can see how much it took. 

Once Wilson pulls out the cue, Barton replaces the ginger in the whore's ass where it's now holding Tony's piss and Wilson's cum. 

"Get the balls clean and put them back," Barton orders. "After that, you can get your lunch before seeing Bruce."

*

Lunch today is with Mr. Stark's bodyguard, Mr. James Barnes. 

Every day, Stark Industries recognizes an exemplary employee who is given the slut for lunch as a reward. Today's awardee is James Barnes, for his excellent work ethic this year.

With cum dripping off it's jaw and eyelashes, ginger in its boypussy, it crawls all the way to Mr. Stark's executive office in the pent suite.

When it's let inside, Mr. Stark looks up. 

"Loose pussy," Mr. Stark calls. "I didn't realize we had a lunch appointment?"

"Loose pussy is here for lunch with Mr. Barnes, sir," Jarvis explains.

"Of course," Tony says. "That's right. Congratulations, Bucky. It's a well deserved award."

"Thank you sir," Bucky says. "Will you mind if I step outside to give it it's lunch?"

"Not at all," Stark says, turning back to his work. "Loose pussy, get a drink from me before you go to see Bruce. I am too busy to get up."

Barnes leads the cum whore out in the hallway. There are people walking up and down, stepping into different offices and making photocopies at the machine in the corner. Picking a spot, Barnes takes out his cock and feeds it to the cock hungry whore.

The whore is starving, it hasn't eaten anything since lapping up Mr. Stark's pee, so it goes to town on Barnes thick, long cock. It sucks and bobs and licks, pressing it's nose to Mr. Barnes' crotch to deep throat the cock head. Within minutes, the man is coming down the slut's throat, who gulps it all down like a good champ. Around them, the people continue with their work, because they are used to lunch time rewards at Stark Industries.

"Good slut," Mr. Barnes pats it on the head, showing affection. The whore crowds into the touch. It feels nice. 

Barnes leads the slut back inside, where Mr. Stark is typing rapidly on his keyboard.

"Ah yes," he says, looking up. "Loose pussy, take the drink in your front hole."

The whore crawls under the table on it's hands and knees. Mr. Stark must be having a really busy day, because the container of piss he uses when the slut is elsewhere is nearly full. The slut gets Mr. Stark's cock free and puts its mouth around it. Once the warm, fleshy hole is in place, Mr. Stark releases down it's throat. The whore is glad to get a drink with lunch today, and happy to serve Mr. Stark while getting it.

Once Mr. Stark is done, the whore releases his cock, but nudges his thigh with its nose. 

"What?"

It nudges again.

"Yes, Jesus, what? I am busy," Mr. Stark looks down at it. It gestures to the half full piss pot under the desk. "Yes, go ahead, clean it up for me."

Delighted, the whore licks up the contents of the pot with its tongue, lapping it all up until its nearly empty for reuse again. The whore wishes it could stay and be Mr. Stark's piss pot, but it has to serve Dr. Banner.

"That's so hot," Barnes says, watching from his spot against the far wall. 

"Yes, it's the best urinal I ever invested in," Stark agrees. "Feel free to go for seconds, Barnes. You're one of our best employees, and I want you to feel rewarded."

"Thank you, sir," Barnes says. "Come out here, loose pussy."

The cumdump crawls out from under the desk, it's ass swaying, the tips of the ginger roots peeking out for Mr. Stark's gaze. It kneels before Mr. Barnes, ready for the order.

"Play with your tits," Barnes says. "It's got great boobs, Mr. Stark. Have you considered getting it one of those injections - I hear they can make them huge, like a bitch's udders."

"It's been begging me for those," Stark admits. "I am waiting for a really good behavior day, so it can get boobs as a reward."

"That's a good idea," Barnes agrees, jerking off his hard cock, as it tugs at it's nipples. "Not like it needs the help. It's got bitch boobs already, god, I bet its heaven to mush them together on your cock and give it a lovely white necklace, you would like that, wouldn't you cum slut?"

The cum slut looks up at Barnes, strings of Clint's cum around it's eyelashes, blue eyes staring up wide.

"Jesus, you look like a fucking angel," Barnes says, coming all over it's face and tits. "And now I have made more of a mess. I like it."

"It does too," Stark says. "Get to Bruce before he hulks out, dumb hole."

The dumb hole licks up the few stray drops of cum that had fallen on the floor before it crawls out of the office to Bruce's floor.

*

Of all the people the slut services in the Tower, it's favorite is Mr. Stark. He is the toy's master, and it gets all its pleasure from Mr. Stark's pleasure. But if it were pressed to provide a second favorite, it would name the Hulk.

The Hulk's cock is the very best in the world. His cock is even bigger than Mr. Stark's. Unlike Mr. Stark who sometimes slips up and forgets that the slut is just a slut, an object; the Hulk doesn't give a damn. The whore is nothing more than a cock sleeve for the Hulk. The Hulk makes the whore bleed in its pussy, and fucks it around the blood. 

The whore loves it.

The whore's pussy, which is too loose now for Mr. Stark and the others in the building, is still tight for the Hulk. 

The whore wants to worship at the Hulk's feet.

Every day, when the whore goes to Dr. Banner's saferoom, the doctor cuffs its wrists behind its back, and leaves it on it's hands and knees on the floor. Today, he chuckles at the ginger in the whore's swollen pussy, but leaves it in.

"I bet he will enjoy fucking in alongside the ginger," he says. The whore almost comes at that.

The Hulk is its favorite because the Hulk sometimes lets the whore come. 

Soon enough, the whore hears the grunt of the transformation behind it. It feels the floor vibrate with the Hulk running to it. The cum dump presses its face and shoulders into the floor, pushing its ass up so the Hulk can see it presenting.

"Steeeve," Hulk says. It's jarring to hear its old name from the Hulk. It prefers whore, cumdump, loose pussy, fuck hole and the other hundred names that Mr. Stark calls it affectionately.

The whore feels the (huge, wide) cock head jab at its cheeks, missing its target. On trial five, the Hulk slides home, the ginger roots crushing in the rectum under the pressure. The juices burn the walls of the whore's swollen pussy, and the fuckhole screams in pain. 

Of all the fuckings it received today, this is the one first one the cumdump can feel with some pleasure.

The Hulk fucks in again, and the cumdump screams itself hoarse, the pain tremendous. Each time the Hulk pulls out, some of the bits of ginger go out with him, smearing down the slut's thighs, mixing with Wilson's cum and master's piss. 

Its pussy feels like its on fire, the stretch is unbelievable. One of the Hulk's giant hands feel up the whore's abdomen, where he feels his own cock through the slut's flesh. 

He thrusts faster, and this time, the whore feels the tear in its rectum as it happens, tears of pain making their way down its cheeks, wetting the dry cum on its face.

The Hulk finally comes into its battered, ruined, gaping hole; buckets and buckets of tinged green cum bloating the slut's intestines. 

The Hulk pulls out, and drops the useless whore on the floor like a ragdoll, where it lies, trying to catch its breath, leaking cum, piss and blood out of its ruined hole. 

*

JARVIS sends an empty armor to take the whore back to the workshop. It's almost time for Mr. Stark to get back, and the whore still has cleaning to do.

It's bleeding hole will heal the tear before it is done with his chores, but Mr. Stark will be mad if the cockwhore loses all of the cum that the residents of the tower gave it generously today. 

"Relax, ruined pussy," JARVIS says. "Armor 61 has been deployed."

The whore breathes easy. Armor 61 will stuff its leaking hole back up.

Armor 61 comes through the saferoom doors, and floats over the sleeping Hulk to the whore. The armor easily lifts the whore by its hips, and places it's pussy around the armor's jutting metal cock. Now that the ruined pussy is stuffed back up, the whore relaxes against the cold metal of the armor, as it is flown back to the workshop. 

For the next twenty minutes, the ruined pussy cleans up the various tools strewn about the workshop with the armor holding it up, stuffing its hole. It gets a break to drink some water, and slump against the cool armor while waiting for its plugs and dildos to sterilize. It puts away those, wipes down the countertops in the shop, and even cleans up Dum-E and Butterfingers, just in time for master to come through the doors.

The armor lets the whore climb off of its metal cock, so it can get on it's knees and present, with it's back to the door, fingers pulling its cheeks apart, so that master is greeted by the sight of its gaping, green cum-filled hole upon his return.

"Look alive, guys," master says coming in, carrying folders and a tablet. "Daddy's home."

Dum-E and Butterfingers chirp at him in greeting. JARVIS calls a 'welcome home'. The armor salutes. The cumdump pulls its cheeks farther apart, face pressed to the ground, feeling air touch the insides of its Hulk-fucked pussy.

It hears master dump the files he is carrying on the workbench, and a zipper being lowered. 

"Ah, that's heaven," master says, his cock fucking into its undeserving, filthy hole. The whore feels tears in its eyes because master is so kind to it, always thinking of its comfort, giving it the honor of taking his cock even when he must be exhausted from his workday. The unworthy whore tightens up to increase his pleasure.

Dum-E and Butterfingers hover close by, their wheels inches away from the whore's face and shoulders. Master pats their support struts, cooing at them encouragingly. He is so good to all of his machines. 

The whore takes its third? fourth load of the day in it's slutty pussy. Master slides in a couple of fingers alongside his cock, feeling around for the tear. When he presses on the recently healed area, the slut whines in pain. 

"Hulk had fun, I see," he says. "Eat the floor, cum hole." The whore immediately starts licking at the floor where it is pressed, trying to cover as much of the floor tile as possible with its saliva, cleaning up the ground.

"Any damage, Jay?"

"The ruined pussy healed over in twelve minutes, sir," Jarvis answers.

"Elasticity?"

"Looser today by one and a quarter centimeters more than yesterday," Jarvis promptly provides the answer.

"Excellent," Mr. Stark smiles, affectionately combing through the whore's blonde hair with his fingers. "It needs to sit on Thanos' gauntleted fist. I promised him at our last meeting."

The whore can't help but get wet upon hearing why it's being prepared so thoroughly.

"Getting excited, trash hole?" Mr. Stark sits on one of the chairs and offers his right foot to the whore's mouth. It licks his shoe clean, before unlacing them with its teeth. "Thanos is going to perform the snap of universal destruction. You get the honor of being his sleeve while he does it."

The bitch works the shoe off of Mr. Stark's leg and gets started on the sock. 

"Imagine it, cock warmer," his master says. "Thanos with that huge gauntleted fist up your pussy. I bet one of the infinity stones pressing up against your insides will make you come like a fucking, one dollar whore. And then, he will snap inside your worthless fuckhole and wipe out half the universe. What a special little cockwarmer you're turning out to be."

Mr. Stark's pussyboy gets the right sock off his leg, and he gives it his big toe to suck as a reward. 

"Fucking cum hungry cockslut," he says, reaching into his pants and jerking off slowly. He gives the pussyboy his other foot to worship, and the cock slut gets right on it.

"Turn around," he orders, and his loose cunted whore shuffles on his knees until his raised ass is on display for Mr. Stark again. "Sixty one, fuck its face pussy."

The armor steps up in front of the whore, and it puts its mouth on the metallic dildo which had been in its ass a few minutes ago. It starts sucking off the armor like it were Mr. Stark, trying to bring the metal cock to come down its throat.

"Dumb bitch," Mr. Stark laughs. "It thinks its gonna get delicious, warm cum from a toy. You cum dumpster. Useless, filthy cum dumpster. Spread your cunt."

The whore reaches back to pull its cheeks apart again, and Mr. Stark shoots all over its ass, some of it landing in its gaping wide hole.

"Right," Mr. Stark says. "Back to work." The ruined pussy tries not to feel disappointed. Mr. Stark is a busy man, and he has no time to make a fucktoy come. "Ruined pussy, come on, come up here on the table, you can hold all my tools."

The slut feels delighted. It's not being shunned into the closet with the other toys tonight. Mr. Stark still wants it to serve. 

As its master calls on JARVIS to project various schematics on the holo screens, the cumdump climbs on the work bench and bends over, giving Mr. Stark easy access to its ruined pussy turned pen holder for the night: Master keeps pens, touchwands, screw drivers and spanners in its gaping hole, and the little slut holds it all gratefully for Mr. Stark.

It's never been happier. 

~ 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of this hellhole. (This is just porn folks, so it doesn't matter if you read Chapter 1 or not.)
> 
> Steve screws up, so Tony leaves him at SHIELD for the day as punishment.
> 
> Note: Part 3 contains an alternate ending for this scene, as prompted by a reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the warnings and tags on chapter 1 apply to this too. Just because some of y'all like to come back and yell at me that I didn't warn you enough, here goes again: 
> 
> Overall warnings - Extremely dubious consent, Non con, Watersports, Piss Drinking, Sloppy Hole, Sloppy seconds, Gangbang, Double Penetration, Triple Penetration, Dirty Talk, Spitroasting, Public Sex, Humiliation, Anal gaping, Anal Sex, M/M, Object Insertion, Prostitution, Lack of a Safeword  
> and also DID I MENTION THE DUBIOUS CONSENT.
> 
> Chapter Specific Warnings - and heed all of these.  
> Dead Dove, Do Not Eat, Anal Sex, Anal Gaping, Sexual Slavery, BDSM, Sexual Sadism, Gangbang, M/M, Multiple Partners, Anal Sex, Anal Gaping, Piss Drinking, Public Sex, Humiliation, Bukkake, Cumplay, Prostitution, Plot What Plot, Sloppy Hole, Sloppy Seconds, Crossdressing, Lack of a Safeword, Unrealistic anatomy, Unrealistic situations, CBT.
> 
> I WARNED YOU, FOLKS.

The slut doesn’t want to go. It knows it deserves the punishment master has decided to give it. The slut has no business complaining or whining about it, when master has already wasted a lot of his time today, fixing the slut’s mistakes.

Terror courses through its veins. It’s reluctant because it’s terrified that master’s going to leave it here alone and go away to California. They haven’t been apart for a long time, the cockslut and its master. Not since they started all this. Not since the time the whore came to master, got on its knees and begged him to give it what it craved: to become the hole where he kept his cock warm.

“How many times,” master hisses in frustration, his teeth clenched, as he pulls on the leash to its collar, “must I warn you today? You’re in enough trouble as it is. Move your ass.”

It shuffles on its hands and knees, picking up the pace. He walks ahead, pulling on the leash as it hobbles along.

“SHIELD floors are filthy,” he observes. “Put your mouth to good use, whore.”

The slut puts its tongue to the rough polished tile of the SHIELD main lobby, licking as it goes along, trying not to gag on the bitter, dusty taste. Cum is leaking from its naked ass behind it, and it’s leaving a trail of thin white on the floor. It hopes that master would let it clean it up later. It’s more difficult to clean up the crusted cum once it’s dried off a bit, but the slut loves a challenge.

There are people in the lobby, agents in SHIELD gear milling about, nicely dressed administrative staff walking to their offices, holding cups of coffee. Nobody even looks at the naked slut on its knees. They know better by now. Besides, they’re used to master parading the whore about the building when the whore has been particularly bad. The receptionist barely even looks up at them as they cross.

“Mr. Stark,” Nick Fury greets them in the hallway. “I thought you were going to Malibu?”

“I should be on the plane right now,” master says, “and I would be, if this filthy cumbucket hadn’t picked today of all days to misbehave.” The whore flushes in shame, it’s mouth nearly pressed to the floor so it’s humiliated face can stay hidden.

“Ah,” Fury says, grinning maniacally. “We can help you out with that.”

“Yes, thank you,” master says, looking at his watch. “The usual is okay with you?”

“Sure,” Fury agrees. “But it’s nearly lunchtime. Leave it in the cafeteria instead of the lobby.”

“I’ll do that,” master agrees. “Thank you, director.”

Fury bends down and presses a finger into the whore’s sore, swollen hole, scratching at it’s inner wall before pulling away. A strand of white coats his finger.

“You gave it a headstart?” The director asks, wiping off the finger in the slut’s hair.

“That was Rhodey,” master answers. “It can’t resist a big cock, as you know. Begged and groveled until he put his dick in its useless cunt. I am sorry, Director, I really must be going.”

Fury nods, and sends them on their way.

“You have been an absolute disgrace today,” master scolds as they near the cafeteria. “I will be back later tonight. Try and behave yourself while I am gone. If I find out that you were a disobedient hole, I promise that you won’t like the consequences.”

The hole shudders at master’s words, and a part of the stupid whore wants to be bad just so master will make its life a living hell. But it really should know better.

The cafeteria isn’t crowded. There are only the staff behind the counters, prepping for the upcoming lunch rush, and a few shield agents playing cards around a table. They look up with interest when master drags the whore into the room.

“Alright there, Mr. Stark?” Agent Rumlow calls.

“Yes, thank you,” master answers. “Just gonna set up the hole here before I get going.”

“Is it going to be here all day?”

“Yes,” master says, nudging the whore to climb up on to one of the tables in the center of the cafeteria. The table is visible, prominent and the first thing any person is going to see when they walk into the room. “I trust you to enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. Can one of you find me a placard or something?” He asks, reaching for a sharpie from inside his jacket.

Rumlow nods to one of the other men in his group, who stalks off to have a word with the staff, and promptly returns with one of those little cards they use to display the name of the dishes on the menu. It’s weirdly fitting, knowing what master is going to write on it.

“Thank you,” master says to the agent dismissively, but the guy hangs back, walking around their table in interest. The whore clenches it’s pussy, causing some more cum to drip out. Master tugs on it’s leash. “Stop showing off, cumbucket. This is a punishment.”

He writes on the card and places it on the table, beside the whore’s hands, facing the door so that his big, bold writing is clearly visible - FREE HOLES, TIPS WELCOME.

“I will be off then,” he says finally, running his fingers through the whore’s blonde hair. “Behave, slut. You better be completely drenched in cum by the time I get back. And remember to save every penny.”

The whore nods, pressing into the warmth of master’s hand. It resists the urge to whine. It hates - just hates - that master is leaving. It has no business being away from master. It’s supposed to stay at his feet, keep his cock warm and offer up it’s loose, sluttish holes for his pleasure.

“I know, I know,” he says. “I will be back soon. Here, something to remember me by.” He unzips his fly, pulls out his cock and presses it into the whore’s mouth. The slut gratefully takes it and holds still as master pees down its throat. It swallows the last few drops, and when master pulls out of its facepussy, it kisses the head of his cock with affection, hoping to convey how much it’s going to miss it.

“Geez, I am going to be gone for a day, pissdrinker. I will be back soon.” He tucks his cock back inside, does up his fly and is gone with a turn of his coat. “Have fun, gentlemen.”

~

Rumlow starts the proceedings.

“Must have done something terrible this time to end up here, hole,” he says, circling the table. “Whatchya do? Bite someone’s dick off? Came without permission?”

The whore, if it was allowed, would have sighed in frustration. It’s not an amateur. It’s not gonna cum without permission. Master pretty much owns it’s dick at this point. The whore hasn’t cum in months, and it won’t, not until Master orders it to.

Rumlow sticks four fingers into its mouth and spreads them apart, forcing its jaw to open wide. He puts his cock alongside four of his fingers, so that he can sort of feel his cock fucking into its drooling mouth. The slut’s barely adjusted to how wide Rumlow’s forcing its mouth open when it feels someone prying its asscheeks apart, and within seconds, it’s got a cock in it’s boypussy, brutally fucking in.

“I was hoping it would be tighter,” a gruff voice says from behind it.

“Tell me about it,” another voice says to it’s right. “Every time Mr. Stark brings it around, I can swear it’s gotten looser.”

“It must take a dozen loads a day, of course the pussy’s gonna be fucking wrecked.”

A circle of men is forming around the whore, as more people come into the cafeteria. Some of them still go to get their lunch first (the slutty hole is interesting, but it still ranks lower than lunch); but some of them do get curious and come around for a closer look.

Hands pry at its asscheeks, pulling them apart to inspect where the man’s cock is dipping into its cavernous hole. The fucking pauses, and it feels more than hears the readjustments going on behind it, before not one, but two more cocks join the first. Three cockheads, pressing at its rim. It tries to look over its shoulder, to figure out how three men are maneuvering themselves into fucking it’s unworthy boycunt at the same time, but its mouth is busy, trying to get a drink from Rumlow.

The fucking manages to be surprisingly deep, for three cocks pistoning into its cunt. It’s rim is stretched wide, and the three of them setup a rhythm so that one of them is always pressed deep into its insides.

Four men stand on each side of the table table, jerking off, and the slut receives the first of that evening’s loads on its skin. The cum lands everywhere on its back, from the blades of its shoulder all the way to where its delicious asscrack begins. Another agent cums into its hair, while dropping the peel of the banana from his lunch on its head, making the peels dangle off the sides of its face.

The humiliation fest continues. Rumlow pulls out to paint its face, before moving around to replace one of the cocks in its ass. Another takes position in front of it, dripping its face in piss, before sticking the same cock into its front hole for a blowjob. Someone else comes by and inserts a plastic fork alongside the cock in its mouth, because they were too lazy to walk all the way to the recycler, and one dump hole is as good as any other.

It holds it all - cum and piss and trash, and takes it at both ends, while agents cover it in more.

“Such a warm hole.”

“What a fucking slut.”

“I am gonna blow my nut so hard.”

“Tear it open with my cock, I am gonna fuck it so hard its gonna limp outta here.”

“Wish it had another hole. All that flesh, surely Stark can give it a vagina and some boobs.”

“It’s already got boobs, Rick, wish we could put it in a bra.”

The hour progresses, and agents who have taken a couple of turns begin to walk away. The slut will be around all day, but they have got jobs to do. Their spots are immediately taken by others, everyone in the building who wants a warm place to stick their cocks will take a turn before the day is done.

As people rotate and walk away, they drop pennies and quarters into the whore’s hair, or on its back. One fresh faced, pimply rookie agent even drops a whole dollar bill, which the boycunt finds very flattering. A whole dollar for using it’s worthless, gaping pussy.

Agent Barton shows up around quarter past two. He takes one look at the whore, covered in jizz and piss and trash, and grins broadly, like Christmas has come early.

He steps up closer, and the dude fucking it’s mouth steps aside at the force of the glare Barton levels at him.

“Well, well, well,” Barton says, lifting the hole’s chin up to make it look at him through the crusted cum on its eyelashes. It’s mouth can’t close all the way, it’s got half a plastic fork sticking out the side and the pink of its tongue is hardly visible under all that jizz dripping off of it. “I warned you this morning, didn’t I? Somehow, I knew even then that you’d end up here. What did you do, cunt? Groveled until he decided to stay?”

The whore manages to nod, and a couple of pennies nestled in its hair fly off and land with a thunk onto the table.

“Only, he didn’t stay, did he? He’s Tony Stark, you filthy little whore. He’s got more important things to do than hang around you all day, filling your wrecked pussy with cum.”

Whore nods again, flushing in embarrassment, trying to blink away the tears.

“Hit a nerve, have I?”

“Less talking, more fucking, Barton,” Agent Rollins calls from the side. “If you ain’t gonna shit, get off the pot.”

“Shut up, Rollins,” Clint yells back. “Besides, it has got a pussy. Go fuck that while I feed its hole up front.”

“The pussy is fucking sloppy,” Rollins complains, and there are sounds of agreement from the group. “It’s wet and loose and frankly, an embarrassment.”

“Jesus, fine,” Clint rolls his eyes. “I will take the whore’s cunt. Never pretended to not like sloppy seconds.”

Clint pulls out a quarter from his pocket, holding it in front of the slut’s face so it can see the payment it’s gonna get for whoring out its ass, before he walks around the table to slap it on its ass. The asscheeks juggle. The two huge cocks in the whore’s cumchamber pull out, leaving it gaping, feeling the warm air of the room against its insides. Meanwhile, Rollins doesn’t waste time, coming around front, grabbing it’s hair, and thrusting deep enough to hit its throat.

“Just like all those arcade games,” Clint says from behind the whore. “Insert a quarter, take a ride.” He presses the coin into the cumdump’s hole, pushing it in with his thumb, and lines up his cock against the opening.

“Thank me for filling up your cunt, whore,” Barton says. “Pull out Rollins. Let me hear the slut.”

Rollins pulls out, grumbling at Clint. “Thank you.”

The words come out garbled because its jaw is sore, and it has still got utensils its holding like a good trash container.

Clint spreads its asscheeks and gives a hard blow on it’s gaping rim. It groans, and tries again.

“Thank you sir.”

He spanks the rim again, and this time, the cunt lets out a sob.

“Thank you sir, for filling up - hic - my cunt.”

He lands five, six, seven smacks right on the hole, making some of the cum in the passage slosh and spill out down his thighs.

“Thank you sir, for filling up my worthless, gaping, loose, slutty cunt.”

“That’s more like it,” Barton slides in all the way, his cock pushing the quarter in. “It’s so wet - such a wet pussy, you could be a girl with how loose you are, you whore. What does the whore want?”

“Your seed, sir,” it answers while Rollins hits its face with his cock, getting more cum all over it. “Please sir, give me your cum. Please make me swell with your seed.”

“Shut it up, Rollins,” Barton calls, while half a dozen more agents jerk off and cum all over its back. “Get its neck, Bob. And it’s calves too.”

The men rearrange, trying to cover as much of the whore’s skin in jizz. It’s face is already dripping cum onto the floor, and only the blue slits for its eyes and its pink lips are even visible among all the white.

Rollins fucks its throat and cums down its gullet, and it swallows dutifully.  
Agent Sharon Carter walks over with her lunch tray. Clint, ever the gentleman, calls over - “Want a turn, Sharon?”

“No thank you,” she says. “You ride it once, you sort of get over what the fuss is all about. They gave me grapes again. I hate grapes.”

She picks up a handful of grapes out of her fruit cup and hands it to Clint. “The trash can is all the way over there, and I am not walking.”

“I can take care of that for you,” he says panting, as he violently thrusts into the slut. He pauses only long enough to press the grapes one by one alongside his cock into the slut’s pussy and resumes fucking it hard enough to scrape the table along the floor.

A couple of others cum down its throat, and the last few stragglers cum in its hair before Barton is done. He pulls out, turns the whore onto its back and cums all over its groin, covering its hips and its useless clit in his jizz.

“Give me a kiss, worthless pussy,” he says, coming around to where it’s head is hanging off the edge of the table.

The worthless pussy puts its mouth on his balls, worshipping them, kissing the head of its cock and teasing the slit. A couple of drops of piss find their way to the slit. Clint takes hold of his cock and leaves the pristine droplets on the whore’s eyelashes, where they stay, clinging to the little hairs.

“Don’t y’all have work to do?” Phil Coulson calls, carrying a lunch tray of his own, coming up beside Clint. “Everyone who’s had a turn - get back to work - now. Barton, stay.”

The cafeteria empties, leaving only the slut, Barton and Coulson, along with the silently watching staff from behind the lunch counters.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving yet, sir,” he reaches to kiss Phil on the lips, and watching them, the slut really misses its master. Coulson walks around the table, taking in the worthless whore.

“They have done a good job,” he says to Clint. “A couple of hours and they have got it dripping in jizz. Stark will be pleased.”

“I just contributed my load to the cause.”

“I am sure you will be able to get it up again with the right motivation.”

 “What are you planning, sir?”

Coulson doesn’t answer. He simply puts the lunch tray down on the whore’s cum covered abs, and makes a vice at the base of its cock with his hand. With his other hand, he hits the hard, erect head of its cock.

It screams in pain and shock.

“Oooh,” Barton says, stripping his own cock.

“Every time I hit your pathetic excuse of a clit, whore,” Phil tells the slut. “Tell me what you are. And thank me.”

“I am a slut, sir. Thank you for hitting my clit, sir.”

 _Again_. “I am a worthless whore, sir. Thank you for hitting my clit, sir.”

 _Again_. “I am your hole, sir. Thank you for hitting my clit, sir.”

 _Again_. “I am a cocksleeve, sir. Thank you for hitting my clit, sir.”

 _Again_. “I am a cumbucket, sir. Thank you for hitting my clit, sir.”

 _Again_. “I am your cock warmer, sir. Thank you for hitting my clit, sir.”

It is sobbing by the tenth hit on its cock, where its rubbed raw and red.

“Clint, fuck its tits,” Coulson says. “Make it nice and tight for Agent Barton, cunt.”

Clint climbs up on the table, setting aside Phil’s lunch tray and straddles its cum covered chest. The whore grabs hold of its voluminous, generous tits and presses them together, making a narrow valley for Clint to fuck its chest.

He starts thrusting just as Phil presses a dime into its hole and slides in.

“Fucking waste of money,” he says. “Its too wet.” He pulls out, grabs an empty cup off of the tray and holds it close to the whore’s wrecked pussy. “Push it out, cunt.”

Barton groans, and speeds up his thrusts, pinching it’s nipples painfully.

“I said, push it out. Push out all the jizz you have got in you.”

Slowly, after what seems like ages, it flutters the muscles in its back channel hard enough to cause jizz to drip out of its cunt. A couple of coins and a small food wrapper find their way out along with enough jizz to fill up the entire cup.  
“Are you in here, Clint?” Phil asks, passing the cup to Barton who puts it on the whore’s forehead.

“Yeah, me and Rumlow and Rollins and the entire forensics team, and Rick’s five men - from what I can remember.”

“How many dicks did you take today, cunt?”

“I don’t know, sir,” the whore answers.

“Don’t let that cup fall, hole, if you know what’s good for you.”

Phil takes one perfect globe each in one hand, spreads them as far as they would go and slides his dick back into the red, gaping cunt.

“Talk, loose pussy,” Phil says. “Your ruined hole isn’t enough to get anyone off.”

“Please fuck me, sir,” it says. “Please put your cum in me sir, please put it in my ass, please let me have all your seed sir, I will have your babies sir, and I will swell up with your children -”

“Will you feed them from your tits?” Clint interrupts, his hands in the whore’s hair.

“Yes sir, my tits will swell with all the milk, and I will keep leaking milk and beg you to please show me mercy sir, to please drink it from my worthless tits -”

“And I won’t,” Coulson says, grunting and panting with how hard he is fucking the whore now. “I would rather you walked around, round and swollen with tits hanging heavy to your knees with milk for my children. Why should you get any mercy, whore?”

 “I shouldn’t sir, I don’t deserve it, I am here to please you sir, please punish me, sir, punish my hole sir -”

“What’s that, you slut?”

“Please punish my pussy sir.”

“Keep talking.”

“I don’t deserve your massive cock sir, it’s tearing me open, I can’t take it all in my loose cunt sir, please punish me sir, let me bleed for you sir, keep your cock warm in my pussy sir -”

Clint and Phil cum nearly simultaneously. Clint paints the whore’s chest and neck, getting a lot of it in its jaw, lips and even its ear. Phil empties deep into the whore’s channel, painting its insides with his seed, and collapses on top of it, trying to catch his breath.  
Once they have calmed down, Clint takes the cup of jizz and trash off its forehead and pours the contents onto every inch of the slut still left bare - its thighs, the ankles, some of its hair.

“Get off Clint,” Phil says. “I have got a plan.”

~

  
It’s nearly ten pm when Tony makes his way back through the dark hallways of SHIELD to collect his property.

He enters and flips on the light switches in the deserted cafeteria, and takes in the sight that greets him.

The whore is where he left it, on its hands and knees on the same table. There is cum on the table surface, and on the floor surrounding the table. Every inch of the whore’s skin is covered in white jizz, but its something else that gives Tony pause.

Someone - and Tony knows who it’s likely to be - has gotten a stars and stripes patterned short cheerleader skirt on to the whore’s hips. He presses his palm to his groin to keep himself from cumming in his pants at the sight.

The whore is naked, except for the skirt on its hips and the collar at its neck. There’s jizz in its hair, on the bottom of its feet and on every inch of skin. He walks closer, taking a look at the whore’s face. Its eyes are open, the blue irises thin enough for Tony to know that the whore isn’t fully here, its away, floating in bliss. He will fix that in a minute.

Cum is crusting in its eyebrows, eyelashes and down its nose. Its mouth is wide open, holding what looks like a variety of junk - Tony spots cum covered plastic cutlery, a couple of pens, a scrunched up paper cup, and a scroll of paper poking out at the very edge. He tugs on the scroll first to pull it out.

_Thank you for your generous gift, Mr. Stark. - AC._  
_P.S. We hope you like the decoration._

Below Coulson’s note is a tally list with two columns - _Mouth - 43, Pussy - 76._

Smiling to himself, he looks for the leash, to find the lead running from its collar back into the slut’s mouth. Phil has pressed the end of the collar’s leash under the whore’s tongue. Tony will have to get all the junk out of blowjob central if he needs to get the leash out. He decides to let it remain, and walks around to check out the whore’s backdoor.

The cheerleader skirt is pitifully short, and it barely covers the slut’s round, generous ass. He lifts the hem of the skirt to look at its pussy. The rim is struggling to close around something - some object that’s gleaming in the cafeteria lights. He caresses the skin around its rim with the tip of a finger. The jizz coating wipes away and he spots some writing in black.

Curious now, he brushes the jizz off of the slut’s ass with a broad hand. Clint’s writing in black sharpie is glaring on the pale skin.

He’s drawn an arrow to the slut’s asshole, with words above. _Property of Mr. Stark._

“God damn you, Barton,” he gasps.

He thrusts in two fingers, trying to figure out what Phil’s stuffed inside the whore’s pussy. His fingers clink against hard metal. Feeling around, he realizes what it is and tugs it out.

The whore moans, his whimper loud in the silent building.

“Shhh, hush, hold on, slut,” he says. “Loosen up for me. I gotta unstuff your hole if you are gonna walk outta here.”

The slut is probably still floating away, but it loosens up for Tony like a good little whore. A tug, and a little elbow grease, and Tony’s gotten the misshapen mesh bag full of coins out of the whore’s pussy. The bag is gleaming with dimes, pennies, quarters and even a dollar bill. Most of them are covered in jizz, and with nothing to stopper the sore, abused channel anymore, more cum drips out of the pussy down the whore’s thighs.

Tony pulls out his cock, jerks it once, twice, three times before he is coming all over the slut’s ass, with more than little landing on the little mesh bag of coins.

He tucks himself back in, picks up the bag, walks around the table and dangles it in front of the whore’s eyes.

“Come back to me, loose pussy,” he runs one hand through its crusty, blonde hair, coaxing the whore back to the present.

They have got no time to waste. He’s going to make the slut crawl all the way to the car, the bag of its earnings dangling from its mouth.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You read the tags. You clicked. You got till here. Do you really think I am the one to blame at this point? Yeah, no. I will see you in hell. 
> 
> For the rest of you degenerates, if you want more, leave prompts in the comments.
> 
> Note: Part 3 contains an alternate ending for this scene, as prompted by a reader.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For KL, who requested an alternate take on Chapter 2 -  
> "but what if Steve (sorry, the slut) safeworded and broke the scene after several months, with h/c and loving Tony at the end."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This upcoming chapter is FAR SWEETER, SOFTER AND OVERALL LOWER IN TERMS OF INTENSITY than the preceding two chapters.   
> If you are the type of person who enjoyed the first two chapters and don't want to be forced out of the universe that was setup in those two parts, I strongly recommend AGAINST reading chapter 3. 
> 
> I have had a couple of readers point out that they liked parts 1 and 2, and didn't want to be forced out of that universe.

Warnings for this chapter: Safewording, Insecure Sub!Steve, discussion of going down deep into subspace, and some lovely h/c. All other warnings and tags on the fic HOLD APPLICABLE FOR THIS CHAPTER TOO.

Tony stands behind a small alcove set against the cafeteria wall. Multiple video cameras feed into three monitors setup in front of him. JARVIS has taken over surveillance in the building. Tony might trust Fury with the slut’s safety today, but he doesn’t trust Fury to not grab leverage when it walks into his building and asks to use the cafeteria for a scene.

There’s a comfortable armchair, and a coffee table, and Tony’s had his hands down his pants since he sat down, unable to resist. Nearly every single person who’s used his whore’s holes today has cum on its face, or all over its flawless back. There’s few things Tony loves more than watching his little cumdumpster push its limits for Tony’s pleasure.

The little whore moans and whimpers, as Barton (god bless Barton and his fucking depraved mind) lands heavy blows on its red rim, the hole gaping and sloshing jizz all over the place. 

Thank you sir, for filling up my worthless, gaping, loose, slutty cunt.

Tony cums into his fist with a groan. 

It’s his second orgasm since he put the cumdump in the cafeteria, and if Barton keeps at this, it won’t be his last.

He taps into an alternate camera to look at the little toy’s face, to make sure he is still doing okay. They have gone nearly a year into this little setup without breaking scene, and while Tony wouldn’t play this long and hard with any other sub, he’d decided to make an exception for Captain America. 

It’s odd, even in his head, to think of his little piss drinking, cum craving whore as the good Captain. The slut hasn’t been the Captain in over a year, and Tony’s gotten used to having the convenient hole around. In fact, he hasn’t thought of the Captain in several months.

He looks away from the monitor and focusses on Coulson, who’s just shooed everyone out and taken over tormenting the slut’s worthless clit.

It hasn’t had an orgasm in months… Tony thinks it was probably Christmas when he last let it cum. It’s been such a precious, obedient cockwarmer. Tony’s a lucky bastard. 

Watching Barton and Coulson fuck the slut’s holes together is explanatory enough for Tony, to finally understand what the two men have in common for their relationship to have lasted this long. Cruel, torturing tendencies is a hell of a thing to share a taste for.

Take him and the slut for example. Tony craves control, and an outlet for his sadism. The little whore wants to give up control, to place its trust in someone else, to suffer beautifully to make Tony happy. It’s a match made in heaven, really.

The list of depraved words coming out the slut’s mouth go straight to Tony’s half erect cock. Worthless whore, sir. Hole, sir. Cum dump, sir. Cock warmer, sir.

Tony’d once written all these names on its forehead and made it introduce itself to every person at their usual BDSM club. It had cum so hard afterward without Tony even touching its worthless prick, that he’d decided to let the names stay. It’d stopped being Steve after that day. It was hole or cunt or pussy, and sometimes, Tony liked to mix it up with whatever filthy name he could think of on a given day.

He starts jerking off some more, as he watches Coulson and Barton arrange the little slut in a post. Coulson makes it shimmy its hips into a little skirt, and Barton stuffs its pussy with all the loose change it picked up by whoring out its holes. Barton writes Property of Mr. Stark on its ass, covers it up with another of his own loads and torments its nipples for good measure.

Coulson meanwhile stuffs the useless hole in its face. He pushes in pens and plastic spoons and broken bits of trash, and a little note for Tony to find later. The cumdump takes it all with nary a blink. It’s accustomed to having its holes used as trash receptacles or cumbuckets. Tony once put several tools and screwdrivers into its pussy and made it hold them for him as he worked on the armor.

He double checks the front camera, and ensures that the slut’s eyes are open. His irises are thin, he is pale, but it has got enough awareness in them for Tony to know that its not dropped too deep. It’s a pretty intense scene, so Tony decides to let it savor the feeling for a little while longer before pulling it out and taking it home. 

He’s fairly certain the slut’s enjoyed it, and will enjoy being left alone in the dark cafeteria for several more hours, being an object, its holes filled up, drenched in other men’s spunk for Tony to find… 

When Barton goes and ruins it all.

“Told you he’d have better things to do than watch you being a whore,” Barton tells it as he lays the finishing touches, straightening the skirt. Tony is instantly alert, watching for signs. This is a sensitive area, but the slut hasn’t broken character in a year… 

“He’s probably not even watching right now,” Barton walks around the table to look at the slut’s face. “Maybe he really went to California, and doesn’t care what you end up doing in here.”

“Barton,” Coulson says warningly, shutting Clint up. “We have better things to do than spend an evening giving the whore what it wants. Let’s go.”

They turn out the lights in the room and leave. 

There’s silence, and the slut’s deep breathing. 

Tony settles back, hoping that the danger has passed. The slut knows he is in here, surely? 

Twenty minutes pass, and then another twenty. The little toy’s breathing is getting louder, and wetter. 

“Jarvis?” 

“Pulse slightly elevated, sir,” Jarvis says. “Increased perspiration.”

He decides to give it another few minutes, putting the ball in Steve’s court. He can’t think of him as an it right now, not when he looks so distressed.

“Fuck it, Jay,” he says, getting to his feet. “I am ending the scene early. I’ll call it quits and tell him I never could make it to California. He will like a chance to get puni-”

Gagging sounds. The bunch of litter in his mouth come tumbling down to the floor, and Steve gags as he spits everything out. The plastic hits the floor with a sound that reverberates in the empty cafeteria.

Tony freezes. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Tess-” croaky, raspy, wheezy. Wet breathing. Tony takes off at a run, phone in hand playing the audio from the room, sprinting to where Steve is. “Tessehract. TESS. TESSERACT! TESSERACT -”

He is there. He is almost there.

“Deploying Mark 12 with aftercare supplies,” Jarvis’ calm instruction does nothing to stifle Tony’s panic.

He throws the doors open with a loud thud, and cannot bring himself to care.

“I am here,” he says, shoes skidding on the floor. “Steve, baby, I am here.”

The table is surrounded by cum, and Steve is dripping in the stuff, but Tony doesn’t give a damn. He takes Steve into his arms, and sits down on the table, whispering comfortingly.

“I am here, baby,” he says. “I am right here. I was here the whole time. It’s okay, you did great. It’s over now.”

The armor glides into the room, a large metal case in one hand. Steve shudders away, trying to hide behind Tony bodily.

“Just the armor,” he cooes into Steve’s hair (God, there’s so much cum, there’s cum everywhere). “Here,” he opens the case, gets out a bottle of water and presses it to Steve’s lips. “Drink. Slowly. Just a few sips. Swallow, baby, so beautiful for me, so good.”

Steve is shaking, he is shaking like he’s freezing cold, and Tony feels the guilt nearly drown him.

“What do you need, love?”

Steve holds on to Tony tighter, and his eyes aren’t entirely clear yet. Tony pets his hair. “Tell me, love, what do you need? Food? Home?”

“Clean,” Steve gets out one word, like it took all the strength in his body to say it. 

“Jarvis?”

“Overriding control of fire suppression systems. Turning on sprinklers thirty five through forty two. Please stay where you are.”

“Make it hot, Jay.”

“As you wish sir.”

The sprinklers above their heads turn on, drenching them both. True to his word, the water is warm enough, and Tony scrubs at Steve to wash off all the jizz. He pulls out a couple of thick, warm towels from the case, and dries him up, before wrapping him in the soft blanket he usually keeps in the aftercare case.

“Steve,” he says once he’s stopped shivering in the cold, and is just clinging onto Tony with a death grip. “I am right here, baby. I would never leave you during a scene like that. I was there the whole time. You were perfect, baby. You were so good for me, taking all those cocks for me.”

“Was good?”

The question breaks Tony’s heart. “You were perfect.” He kisses Steve’s forehead. “We’re going home, and after you get some rest, we will talk about this some more. Now, car or Iron Man?”

Steve thinks about that for a full minute. Tony waits him out patiently. Making choices after months of the lifestyle they led.. Tony is going to enforce more frequent breaks the next time they start this up. And if he has his way, they won’t start again for several weeks.

“Iron man, please,” Steve says finally. 

“Okay sweetheart,” he gives him another kiss on the forehead. “I am going to let the stuff in your ass stay there until we get you into the bath, okay?”  
“Knee-my.”

“What’s that sweetheart?”

“Money mine.”

Tony wraps Steve in a second blanket, and pulls socks on his feet so he doesn’t completely turn blue during the flight home.

“You want to keep the money, is that it?”

Steve shakes his head, face pressed against Tony’s chest. He can’t believe that this is his lover. “Of course, darling, it’s yours. No? Oh, you want me to keep it?”

A nod, shy and hesitant, face still pressed against Tony. “Okay, do you promise to explain later?” Another nod.

Tony steps into the armor, and picks Steve up into his arms. “Hold on tight, honey. We will be home soon.”

He flies them straight to Tony’s en suite, where Jarvis has already started a hot bath, and had the staff lay out supplies. Tony helps Steve take off the robes, and gently lowers the man into the hot bath. Steve groans out loud, when the water touches his sore rear. 

By the time he’s got Steve warm, dry and sleeping soundly in bed, Tony’s exhausted too. Leaving JARVIS instructions to handle the cleanup in the SHIELD cafeteria, he collapses into a fitful sleep.

~  
When Steve emerges from the bedroom the next day, it’s past noon. He’s not dressed, but he’s thrown on Tony’s navy blue cotton sheets around himself like a toga, looking like a pale, Roman God.

“Good morning, baby,” Tony greets him, gently nudging him into a cosy armchair by the fire. “Jay, send up a breakfast service. All of his favorites.”

Steve smiles gratefully before lowering himself into the armchair. Tony can’t help the pang of guilt when Steve winces. 

“We’re getting a doctor to check you out, first thing,” he says.

“I am fine, si-Tony. Tony.” He repeats quietly, almost to himself.

“Honey,” he comes closer, sitting on the arm of the chair, taking Steve in his arms. 

“Are we having the talk now?” Steve asks, his eyes looking away warily.

“Eat first,” Tony orders. 

He fusses over Steve over breakfast, refilling his plate and making sure he’s not nauseous. Steve used to get terribly nauseous after intense scenes, back when they first started this. 

After the dishes are cleared away, and Tony’s put a mug of tea in Steve’s hands, he settles in for the long conversation.

“You wanna go first or shall I?” he asks.

“Me,” Steve says. “I am so sorry.”

Of all the things Tony was expecting, this was not it.

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”

“I went a full year,” Steve shakes his head, like he can’t believe it of himself. “I was hoping to not stop.”

“Steve,” Tony says. “I would have ended it in a month anyway. It’s not healthy, Steve. We talked about it when we started this, and I only agreed because you needed it so much. After this week, I would have called for a break myself. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I can’t help wondering how far we could have gone-”

“And I am just glad you safeworded before we could have found out,” Tony sighs.

“You are not mad?”

“I am,” Tony says. “At myself, for not throwing Barton out before that stupid comment. And for not stepping in sooner as soon as the scene ended. I knew something was wrong the moment they turned out the lights.”

Steve’s expression turns distant, like he is recalling the moment.

“Just so that I can be sure,” Tony prods. “It was Barton’s comment, right?”

“What do you think?”

 

“I am very aware of your physical discomfort tells,” he explains. “I knew you were enjoying what Phil was doing to you, even up until the very end. You were down deep from when Rollins was fucking you, and I was certain you were having fun with Phil. It’s why I was as relaxed as I was. I know it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t handle physically.”

“I think you’re right,” Steve says. “It sounds - God, so stupid now, but I was missing you, and I wanted you near me, because it was such an incredible experience. I was down pretty much for the whole of it, and I wanted you and you weren’t there, and Clint said you didn’t want me -”

“I wanted you so much I could have burst with it.”

“I know now - it doesn’t make any sense - but when I was down, it was - so lonely, maybe I was down too deep -”

“Maybe.”

“But yeah,” Steve nods. “Up until then, I was having a great time,” he smiles up at Tony. “Did you get the video?”

Tony grins. “Of course I did,” he says. “We can watch it together when you’re feeling up to it. You wanna tell me what you meant about the money?”

Steve goes red, and ducks his head.

“Wantyoutohaveit.”

“I got that much, yes,” he smiles. “But why?”  
“I earned it.”

“Of course you did.”

“I earned it,” he says again. “But I belong to you.”

“I would love to keep it,” he steps forward to kiss Steve. “Do you know how hard it was for me, the last few months to share you?”

“I do,” Steve smiles against his lips. “I am so grateful you went along anyway. It was - incredible.” He beams up at Tony, the question clear in his bright eyes. When can we do it again?

“Uh-huh,” Tony shakes his head. “Not yet. We are renegotiating stuff, and we’re working in more frequent breaks, and maybe less sharing.”

“We can talk about it,” Steve smiles, his eyes glinting.

“Less sharing, Rogers,” Tony growls. “You’re mine.”

“We’ll talk about it,” he says again. “And I will make it up to you.”

Tony kisses him again. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I am okay,” he nods. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart,” Tony says vehemently. “So much.”

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I welcome prompts in the comments. I can't promise to fill them all, but I will fill as many as I can.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wanted tits. Steve got tits.
> 
>  
> 
> For Priapus2 who prompted (sort of) - "Steve fucks up and breaks a big rule, like cumming without permission." and daddymarvel_1 who prompted a scene with ONLY Steve and Tony. 
> 
> This is a partial fulfillment of both your requests. I am sorry if this is not exactly what you were looking for, but I did my best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back to the same BDSM universe in this chapter, DISREGARDING chapter 3, which was written as a one-off thing anyway. All tags and warnings on the ENTIRE FIC apply to this chapter too, along with these CHAPTER 4 specific warnings.
> 
> Hermaphrodite! Steve, Boypussy! Steve, Body modification (off screen), Steve has girl parts now with no explanation, Cockslut! Steve, Male Lactation, Breeding Kink, Virginity Kink, Tony takes Steve's virginity, Bleeding, Vaginal Bleeding, Sore Pussy, Pussy Lips, Orgasm without permission, Vaginal Sex, Penis in Vagina sex, crossdressing, objectification, dirty talk, name calling, slut shaming, creampie, cumplay, photography, DUBIOUS CONSENT, really cannot emphasize the DUBIOUS CONSENT ENOUGH, and ALL OTHER PREVIOUS tags from the fic.

The slut only has itself to blame for its current predicament.

“Well,” Mr. Stark says appraisingly, taking the sight in. “You wanted tits, and you got tits.”

It indeed does. 

Two humungous mounds hang off its chest, pointing to the floor in its current position on its hands and knees. Mr. Stark bends down to flip the nipple of one, watching it dangle and bounce back and forth before flipping the other one. He grabs one in his hand, watching the flesh swell between his fingers. 

“That’s what an udder should feel like,” he says, grinning. “Soft, bouncy and too big to fit in one palm. What do you say, whore?”

“Thank you sir,” it says, through its cum drenched lashes. Its face is covered in Mr. Stark’s cum. It got new tits  _ and  _ Mr. Stark’s cum. The slut is having the most perfect day. 

“Jarvis,” he calls. “Deadline to lactation?”

“It should be ready now, sir.”

“Let’s see if I can knot the little bitch,” he says. “Pretty up for me, whore.”

It crawls on its hands and knees to the little workbench where a beautiful outfit is laid out for it. The fabric of the two piece is the classic red, white and blue. The skirt is frilly and short, short enough to be a belt instead of a skirt, barely covering it’s new girlpussy or the mound of its ass. The bodice has a built in brassiere, with straps going over its shoulders to knot together at the back of its neck.

It gets wet just thinking about putting this on. 

“Take any longer and I will stuff your pussy with Thor’s hammer, bitch.”

It gets the skirt on first, the fluffy ends of the smooth fabric brushing against the top of its thighs, feeling heavenly against its hot, tight pussy. The bodice takes a few more minutes, as the whore tries to stuff its generous boobs into the bra, and they keep spilling out of the skimpy little thing. It ties the straps behind its neck, and feels the weight of its jugs stretching the star spangled bodice. 

Costume in place, it crawls back to Mr. Stark, swinging its hips, feeling the skirt move against its skin. 

“Did I not give you a large enough bra, little bitch? You are spilling out of everything, aren’t you? Got udders like a fucking cow. Those tits aren’t gonna fit into anything, whore.”

He runs his fingers through its hair, tugging at the soft tendrils and making it look up at him.

“Are you enjoying your reward, whore? I don’t think you’re being very grateful. All this focus on your fucking milk feeders, but you’re ignoring the tight new hole I made for you. Thank me for your pussy, bitch.”

“Thank you master for giving me my pussy.”

“Never thought I would get to pop one of your cherries again,” he says, getting his cock out of his trousers. “Your useless ass cunt is a gaping mess, and your slutty mouth is so used, it can’t get anyone off anymore, you cockwarmer.”

“Yes sir, my holes are all worthless, sir.”

“Go on, then, take a look, whore. We know you’re dying to,” Mr. Stark nudges it in front of the tall floor to ceiling mirror and kicks its side to roll it to a sitting position.

“Spread your legs, fucktoy. Play with your new lips. Look at what a tight cunt looks like, cause you haven’t had one of these in ages.”

“Yes master,” the whore sits up, spreads its legs, planting its feet on the floor, lifting the skirt up and aside so it can see its shaved, new mound. It’s already wet, the head of its clit peeking out from between thick, luscious, pussy lips.

“Spread em,” Master orders from behind the fucktoy. With two fingers, it spreads the thick lips apart to reveal the pink flesh underneath. Its juices, wet and thick grizzle out.

“Fucking slut,” Master tugs at its hair, hard. “Such a whore for cock. Want your virgin hole ravaged, do you? Not used to having a tight little cunt, are you? No, you want it gaping wide, so everyone can know how many men have emptied their balls in your little slutty hole.”

“Please master,” it begs. “Please.”

“Rub your clit, you cocksleeve. Get it all nice and swollen. Should I get my fingers in your stupid little virginal cunt? Answer me, whore.”

Its hand flies at its cunt, rubbing vigorously, never taking its eyes off the mirror, trained upon where its pussy lips are reflected back.

“No master, please, no.”

“Why not, bitch?”

It mumbles, turning red.

“Louder, cunt,” Master says, hand still tugging painfully at its hair.

“Please break my cunt open with your cock, master.”

Master laughs, “You filthy whore. Cock craving slut. Don’t worry, pissdrinker. I will christen your new pussy so hard you won’t be able to move for a fucking week. Then, I will leave you in Avengers kitchen so everyone can get their milk from your fucking useless tits instead of the fridge. Make you the milk cow that you desperately wanna be.”

“Please master,” it begs, hand moving rapidly at its clit, trying desperately to not cum at its master’s words.

“Hands and knees, whore,” he orders and the slut moves to comply. “Let out the party fun bags, fuckhole. I wanna see them bounce as I fuck your stupid cunt.” He pulls at the knot at the back of the hole’s neck, freeing the tits as they jiggle. “Look at yourself in the mirror, cumdump.” 

He lines up the head of his cock at the entrance of the cumdump’s brand new pussy. “You better bleed like a virgin, bitch, or I am never fucking your stupid hole.”

“Please master.”

“Grab your tits and kiss them, hole. They’re full of milk, and the only reason you’re not entirely a worthless cumdump yet.”

The slut takes each flesh mound in a hand, and ducks its neck to kiss the top of its tits. 

“Did you kiss your little udders, cow? Let ‘em go now, let ‘em jiggle like they are meant to be while I wreck your virgin cunt. Beg for mercy, you little whore.”   


“Please, master,” it cries, sobbing, gasping for breath. 

“What’cha begging for, whore?”

“‘Twon’t fit, master,” it sobs pitifully. “Too big.”

“Haven’t had  _ that  _ problem in a while, have you, little hole?” 

“No master,” it shakes its big head, “but it’s too big for my new hole.”

“What’s it really, bitch?” he spanks one firm, round asscheek, watching it jiggle.

“My pussy, master. My new, virgin cunt.”

“That’s right,” he says. “Got a pretty dress to go with your little girl hole, haven’t you? And tits, god, the tits. I should have done this ages ago. You and your beautiful, goddamn tits. Gonna drive every man with a cock insane in this building when I finally decide to share them. I got them to always be full of milk. Gonna be enough to feed every man who puts his mouth to your fucking udders and keeps his cock warm in your little cunt.”

“Please, master,” it cries. 

“Look up, pretty,” he says. “Look at yourself getting fucked, see me pop your cherry.”

He thrusts in, one, long, hard thrust and the bitch screams, the pain searing, like it’s rupturing into two, it’s walls cling and bruise and tear as its master’s cock pushes through the warm, parting flesh. He pulls out, and the head of his dick is tainted red with blood.

“Fuck,” he pants, “that was even better than your fucking, sloppy backdoor. God, that’s  _ some _ pussy.” He brings his fingers down to where the bitch is throbbing, the flesh is red around Tony’s cock, the head still pressed at its entrance. His fingers prod at the little hole, and come away wet with blood and the slut’s wetness. 

“That’s fucking proof, isn’t it, bitch?” He brings his fingers upto its face, so it can see the blood glistening on his fingers. “That you haven’t been whoring out the new cunt I gave you and waited like a good little slut for your master’s cock. That’s good, bitch. You’ve pleased me.” He presses his fingers to its mouth and it laps up the wetness, grinning at having pleased its master. 

“Only yours, master.”

“Yes, you are, slut. So is your hole. I decide when it gets fucked.” He thrusts back inside, setting up a hard rhythm, hard enough to make the bitch’s knees slide on the slick floor, making its jugs swing, the loosened brassiere hanging off its neck, limp. 

“God, you’re tight,” he groans, keeping up the hard pace. “You are so fucking tight, I had forgotten how tight you used to be, before I fucking wrecked your boycunt. Stuffed it with every single thing you could get your hands on in the tower, didn’t you? Candles and dildos and the entire fist of the Iron Man armor. I used to walk into a room and see you trying to gape your stupid cunt. ”

“Yes, master.”

“Now you got a tight, new hole again,” he grunts, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the silent room. “Can’t wait to fucking wreck it.”

“Please - sir, please -”

“Eyes on the mirror, bitch,” he orders, and it raises watery, blue eyes to see the spectacle they make, master’s tanned skin against its pale one, his fingers in its hair, the other hand around its hips, nails biting into its flesh as he pounds away. The toy’s new tits jiggle with the force of each thrust, and as unused as it is to the sensation, the motion feels weird and sensitive. This nipples hurt, skin breaking into goosebumps over the phantom sensation of Mr. Stark tugging at them.

“Please sir,” it begs, because it’s an ungrateful, selfish little whore that needs more than what master decides to give it.

Mr. Stark brings the hand in his hair down to its chest, taking one fleshy tit in hand, squeezing it. It can’t help but clench around him, as master plays with its boob, making it feel pretty.. 

“God, these tits,” he says into its ear, breath hot against its skin. “Fucking perfect. You were made for me, weren’t you doll? Turn around, ride me.”

It moans, because there is no blood left to go its brain, and rearranging itself onto master’s lap is awkward and difficult. Getting impatient, he puts an arm around its waist and spanks hard on its ass. 

“Come on, whore,” he grunts. “Get moving. My cock’s already missing your tight cunt.”

It flushes red, and settles in his lap, as master lines up his cock and pushes it down to get impaled like the bitch it is. They are the perfect size for master to do it, for him to latch onto one perfect nipple with his teeth and suck.

It screams.

The wetness leaking out of the nipple, the press of master’s brutal teeth against its sore flesh and the sensation of master swallowing around it, of drinking from its udders is too much. 

It comes around master’s cock.

His eyes widen in surprise, because the bitch has been  _ so good _ ; he’s practically trained it into submission; this is new and exciting, and creates just so many opportunities for fun. He bites down harder on the bitch’s nipple, not halting the hard, deep fucking he is giving its little cunt as it shakes through the afterglow.

“Fucking whore,” he grunts. “I don’t remember giving you permission to come, and yet imagine my surprise when I felt you make a mess around my cock.”

It sobs, eyes red and shy, and not meeting his.

“You will be punished, you filthy little cunt. You are gonna beg me for mercy,” he says and goes back to take a mouthful of sweet, sweet milk, and comes up to kiss it. The slut opens its mouth to drink off of his tongue. “Swallow,” he orders and it obeys. 

He snakes one hand down to where they’re joined, grabbing at its swollen clit and pinching hard. It clenches down on his cock again, shaking. 

“Please, sir - please,” it begs prettily.

“Your holes are mine, whore,” he bites into the flesh of its boob, hard, his teeth leaving crescent shaped marks in the soft flesh. “I decide when you come. I thought I trained you out of this years ago. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“I am -  _  hic -  _ sorry sir -”

He sucks and drinks, and nearly drinks it dry, swallowing around its taut nipple. The milk tastes sweet against his tongue, and he can’t seem to stop. 

“Gonna knock you up for real now,” he says, finally letting go of the teat. The flesh is distended and sore, and he can’t wait to torture it again. A thin streak of white flows down the whore’s chest and he is happy to see that the other tit is still leaking milk. “You have got the boobs for it. Gonna knock you up full of my jizz and make you round with my babies. Keep you swollen all the time, begging for it. Get a pup latched to each tit, drinking from your whore boobs.”

It keeps saying  _ please. Please. Please,  _ no longer sure what its begging for.

“Come on,” he pulls out of its cockswallowing cunt, and pushes it up against the mirror, its back pressed to the cold surface of the mirror. He tugs at its legs, making it open them wide, planting the soles of its feet on the floor, exposing his little cunt. Walking on his knees, he settles between them, pushing at its knees, pressing them to its chest.

“Master,” it sobs, pupils blown wide. 

“Spread those lips,” he orders, tugging at his cock, eyes never leaving the pink of its pussy gleaming wet. “Go on cunt, put those fingers to good use and tug your lips apart.”

With shaking hands, it takes the index and middle finger of each hand to pry at its fleshy, gigantic pussy lips, pulling them apart to reveal the rosy insides. It’s making a mess of his floor, wetness leaking from its hole down to the shiny marble of this room, the cold air of the room touching and caressing its little cunt walls. 

He jerks his cock, getting faster as he stares at the little pussy.

“Beg for me,” he commands. “Beg for my cum, slut.”

“Please master,” it begs. “Please cum in my worthless pussy.”

“I gave you a virgin cunt, you know? I could leave you hanging like this forever,” he says, moving his hand faster. “I could let every SHIELD agent fuck you and never christen your lousy cunt with my cum. Every half wit with a cock would take a ride in your cum hole and I would never give you the jizz you actually want.”

It looks at him, eyes wide, tears streaming down its cheeks.

“Please master, no - no, no please, no, I need your cum in my hole. Please sir - I will do anything. Give your whore your cum, master.”

“Tug them wider, bitch,” he says. “Show me that hole.”

Its fingers dig into the meat of the cunt lips harder, as it pulls them apart further, opening itself up for his gaze. It feels cold air touch its clit, and moans. 

“I need your cum, master, I feel so empty,” it begs again. “Please cum in me so deep master, I need your cock -”

“Take it then, whore,” he agrees. “Feed that hungry cunt. You can put the head - and only the head where you need it so desperately, bitch.”

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you -” it reaches out with a shaky hand, using the fingers of the other hand to keep its pussy open and visible to him. It grasps his cock, jerking it just the way he likes it and presses it up against its open cunt hole, the head pressing at its sweet walls.

“What do you say, bitch?”

“Please give my worthless cunt your cum, master. Please creampie my virgin pussy, ” it recites, and he comes into its hole, shooting as deep as he can, even as his cock is half hanging out of its little cum chamber. Dutifully, it holds on, palm pressed around his cock, wringing the orgasm out of him as he dumps everything in his balls into its little cunt.

After catching his breath, he pulls the head of his cock out of its pussy, making the slut groan. 

“Spread ‘em,” he orders, voice cracking on the last syllable, feeling weary with the strength of that orgasm. It complies, using its fingers to pry the pussy lips even wider, showing Tony where streaks of white make a beautiful sight against the throbbing red flesh. A dollop of cum drips out of the fucked hole, landing on the floor beside it. The slut moans, its skin flushing red, face burning, eyes wide, trained on where cum is leaking out of its tight cunt.

“Jarvis,” he says. “Get some stills. Camera 3 should have a great view.”

“Processing,” the automated voice says. “Images saved to your private server, sir.”

“Aww no, Jay, share the love,” master laughs. “CC that to Barton and Rhodey. That reminds me, send that to Pepper too. Her birthday’s coming up.”

The slut flushes red, the humiliation burning its eyes, tears making their way down its cheeks. Shame and arousal both run through it, drawing its skin taut against its bones. 

“Aww come here, little toy,” master says, holding it close to his chest, letting it move its hands off its cunt lips. “You did great. Even if you were a disobedient greedy whore who came without permission.” It sobs more, feeling unworthy of its master’s care. “I know, I know, you’re sorry, but I am still gonna fucking wreck you.” 

It whines into his chest, wanting him to give it hurt. For his touch.

Master tugs its boobs into the loose hanging bra, tying it back around its neck. Then, he runs his fingers through its hair, whispering into its ear. “Here you go. Looks like we ruined your pretty dress. Ready for your punishment now?”

It looks up at him with watery eyes, and with a slow spreading grin, nods, preparing for its sentence.

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments asking me to go to hell and for not warning them enough will be immediately deleted. I genuinely don't know what other warning tags I can add.
> 
> Don't worry, the punishment scene is coming. Ideas for punishment scene are welcome in the comments. 
> 
> Upcoming chapters -   
> 1\. Steve's punishment for coming without permission  
> 2\. Thanos fisting Steve while wearing the gauntlet 
> 
> Your comments and prompts keep me going.


	5. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Stark punishes the whore for its transgression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warnings for this chapter: BESTIALITY, Serious Dub Con, Unhealthy BDSM Practices, Poor BDSM Etiquette, Power Dynamics, Name calling, Anal Sex, Male lactation, Objectification like WOAH, Slut shaming, Dirty Talk, Milk Drinking, Characters drink milk from Steve's tits, Honka Honka, Serious objectification of Steve's Tits, Human Urinal, AND EVERY WARNING THAT'S ON THE FIC ITSELF.

“Crawl after me,” Mr. Stark orders, as he makes his way out of the room.  

Heart pounding, cum drying on its chest and leaking out of its new pussy, it follows him up the stairs and into the kitchen. He ignores it as it waits two steps behind him, as he rummages through one of the cupboards before emerging with a large tray, and a couple of glasses.

It’s going to get punished.

It hasn’t come without permission in… _months._ Its last orgasm was amazing in the moment, but it leaves a bitter aftertaste now, a sign of shame, of failure, of being such a bad little slut. It is a hole. It has no business seeking pleasure that master hasn’t given to it.

“I thought I had trained you out of coming without permission,” master says. “Clearly, I was wrong. I am disappointed.”

It wants to crawl into a hole and die.

“I can’t take you like this to Thanos,” he states. “Thanos needs an obedient little bitch. He needs a warm hole and nothing more,” he sets the tray on the countertop and pulls out a long, broad ribbon from the junk drawer. The ribbon is red, white and blue. Mr. Stark usually uses the thing to tie up the slut’s hands while its sucking his cock. It is long enough to trail between its legs behind its back when its mouth is engaged otherwise. 

"You,” Mr. Stark continues, “still have got useless little ideas like wanting an orgasm. You keep forgetting that you are a filthy little cock sheath and nothing else.”

“Please, master,” it begs, unable to stop the tears flowing down its cheeks. “I will be good.”

Master laughs. “You haven’t been good even one day since we started this whole thing.”

That stings. It _has_ been good. It has tried _so hard_ to be what master requires it to be. Tears sting its eyes. 

“No point begging now, cunt,” Master is speaking again,“You are getting punished, and you won’t forget that you are just a hole ever again.”

“I am just a hole, sir,” it recites, trying to appease him. “I am sorry sir, please!”

Master turns back to the tray on the counter, tying the ends of the red, white and blue ribbon to the two handles on the heavy wooden thing. He picks up the tray by the ribbon, letting it hang down around his palm. 

“Come here, slut,” he calls and it crawls forward on hands and knees. “On your feet.”

That is an unusual command. The slut could count on one hand the number of times it has been allowed on its feet in the last year. It struggles to its feet, the motion unfamiliar, its calves burning.

It is taller than master like this, who corrects the difference immediately by stepping on the footstool they keep in the kitchen to reach the higher shelves. 

He puts the ribbon around the slut’s neck, letting the tray rest against its stomach, like a parody of a waiter with a neck strap tray. He nudges the slut to turn around so he can knot the ends of the brassiere behind its neck again. 

With one warm hand, he grasps one soft, firm breast and plays with the nipple, tugging at it, making the whore hiss. The slut can feel the wetness between its legs.

“Fucking bitch,” he grunts close by the whore’s ear. Master presses each breast into the brassiere and tightens it up, adjusting the knot at the back, before pressing a palm down its cum-streaked little skirt, straightening the fabric.

Master’s cum leaks out of its pussy, running down its legs but Mr. Stark ignores it, tugging at the skirt and pinching its hip.

“Have you guessed what your punishment is going to be, little bitch?”

It shakes its head. It figures master’s gonna make it serve beverages in the outfit, but what’s the punishm -

No.

_No._

It hears the familiar sound of a zipper being lowered, and feels the head of master’s cock prodding at its new girl pussy. In one swift move, master slides home, before setting a pace, rough and fast.It scrambles to hold steady while half bent at the waist, hands holding on to the tall glasses on the tray so they don’t fall and break.

“You,” Master grunts against its back, “are going to go to every person in this tower,” he pants, hips forcefully hitting its pelvis with every thrust, “beg and borrow a fake cock,” it groans, “and in exchange, give them a drink of milk from your little udders.”

It cries.

Tears make their way down its cheeks, eyes burning, as it takes its master’s cock in its cumpot, face burning with humiliation.

“What do you say, whore?”

“Master, please -”

Master snakes one hand under the ruffle skirt, pushing three punishing fingers into its ass. 

“What did you say, slut?”

“Thank you, master,” it stutters out. “Thank you.” 

He removes the three fingers, only to replace them with his entire hand, going in dry. It breathes through the intrusion, trying to remember that master can’t possibly tear it open, its ass is already a fucking mess, it’s a gaping hole with no end. 

“What will you say to them?” Master asks, his hips stuttering without rhythm now.

“Master -”

“When you go to get their toys and plugs, keep up, slut,” Master’s grip on his hips is getting painful, tight and possessive, his fist in its asshole punching through its insides. “Talk.”

“Please, please, please -”

“More.”

“- uhm - aah, sir, please give me cock -”

“More.”

“I want - uh - a plug -”

“Why?”

“I was a bad slut.”

“Yeah, you were,” Master bites at his neck. “Leaking all over everything. Need a plug to keep your holes filled, cause you’re a whore who can’t keep its legs fucking closed.”

“I want your dildo and your toys - ugh master -”

Master comes in its swollen cunt, depositing his second load in its sore pussy.

Panting, catching his breath, he pulls out, letting the slut straighten up. His right hand is still in the whore’s cumchamber, where he is opening and closing his fist, spreading the whore open more than it already is.

Sweat glistens on its abs, above the waistband of the ruffle skirt, tits held up by the brassiere, master’s cum leaking down its legs.

“You look like how much you are worth,” master says, taking his hand out, and pulling a couple of dollar bills out of his wallet from his trousers, “a two dollar whore.”

He stuffs the bills between its tits, and slaps its ass.

“Get to your punishment,” he orders. “Go.”

*

It goes to Thor’s door first, cause it wants to put off Barton for as long as possible, and if it has any luck, Agent Coulson would have left to the office long before it finds its way there.

It has still got cum on its thighs, but it balances the glasses and the tray before knocking. 

Thor is huge.

The slut has taken him before. Thor’s ripped its ass cunt open on more than one occasion. Master had once let the slut tighten up before leaving it to Thor’s mercy. It couldn’t walk for a week afterward.

“Oh, it’s the whore,” Thor calls to someone inside the room once he’s opened the door . “Friend Tony doesn’t usually send you here, does he?” Thor asks it. “What do you want?”

It bows its head.

“Nice outfit,” Thor tells him. “Though I like you better naked.”

“Please sir,” it begs. “Please give me a plug.”

“A plug?” Thor asks, puzzled. “Why?”

“A plug, or a dildo. Anything. Something to stuff my leaking hole.”

“Ah,” Thor nods, and with one giant hand, he lifts the front of the ruffle skirt to gaze at its swollen cunt. It looks down too, taking in the bruised looking labia, the swollen clit, and pearly white streaks dripping out of its hole. “You _are_ leaking.”

“Please sir,” it begs again. “Please.”

“We don’t have fake cocks in my home, whore,” the God tells him. “My Jane has no use for it, not when she has the real thing. Jane!” He booms.

She emerges, wearing a lovely camisole and sweatpants, hair still wet from the shower. In her hand is a large, pink butt plug. 

“Jane?” Thor asks, expression confused.

“Relax, big guy, you’re fine,” she tells him with a hand on his arm. “I don’t use it anymore. It was a gag gift from Darcy that I have felt no need for since we met.” She smiles at him, fond and warm, and the slut feels pain twist its insides. It misses its master.

She holds out the plug, but when the slut reaches for it, she takes it back, “What do we get in exchange?”

It swallows. Face burning with humiliation, it picks up one of the glasses on the tray. “Would you care for some sweet milk from this slut’s udders?” it asks, trying not to meet their eyes.

Thor tugs his pants down and takes himself in hand, and Jane says, “I would like a sip.”

As Thor jerks himself off slowly, the whore pulls one tit out of the brassiere, holds the mouth of the glass close to the teat and pinches the areola until a stream of white starts filling the glass. When the stream of milk slows down, it has to pinch and tug hard, hissing through the pain.

The folded two dollar bill master stuffed between its tits stays there, visible for Thor and Jane to see. It flushes red in humiliation. 

When the glass is half full, it releases the nipple, getting on its knees, bending its head low and offering the glass up to Jane, hands above its head.

“Umm, delicious,” Jane says after taking the glass and having a sip. “Thor honey,” she says. “Remind me to ask Tony about the custom serum he made. This is excellent work. He gave Captain America functioning tits.”

“It’s not Captain America, my Jane,” Thor booms, his hand stripping at his cock. “It is just a whore now. Give me my payment, bitch.”

It goes for the nipple again, but Thor stops it.

“I want something else,” he says. “I have fond memories of your little ass.”

The slut has those memories too. Thor had ripped him open once. On some days, it misses being that tight.

It stands up and turns around, bending over at the waist, gripping the edge of the tray, offering up its ass to the God of Thunder.

“What a fucking gape,” Thor comments, lifting up the ruffle skirt. “Jane, see!” 

Humiliation, fresh and biting burns through the slut’s flesh. 

“Oh wow,” Jane agrees. “You said it was tight,” she asks with a questioning lilt in her voice.

“It used to be,” he muses. “The first time I ripped through, its flesh was tight like a vice. Velvety soft insides. I had to fight for every inch before it gave, the little slut. It was virginal.”

It hadn’t been, not really. Mr. Stark had broken it open already. All of the whore’s firsts belonged to Mr. Stark, but there was no need to correct Thor.

“You must take twelve fuckings a day,” Jane muses, her tone more academically curious than anything else. She scrapes against the inside of its ass cunt with a nail. “Velvety soft. If it were tighter, it would be fun to fuck, I guess. Now, it’s a handhold more than a fuckhole.”

It made the whore feel like the little filthy sex toy it is, standing around as they stared at its gaping insides and examined it like its a monument they once visited on vacation.

“I can’t fuck this useless mess,” Thor tells it. “Can _anyone_ get off in this filthy little cumbucket?”

 _The Hulk can,_ the whore thinks, but it would not do to pit Thor against the Hulk in the _size of cock_ department. They would both want to end up experimenting, and the whore’s ass would pay the price.

Silently, it turns back around, lifting up the front of the skirt, and spreading its pussy lips with a couple of fingers, showing them the rosy insides. 

“Fucking filthy,” Thor says, running his fingers through the white semen coating on its flesh and rubbing them off on the top of its tits. Grabbing on to both of its tits, and bending the slut back, he presses his huge cock into its throbbing pussy, tearing open the walls.

It screams. 

Thor is fucking huge. 

He fucks into the whore, hard and fast and rough, while Jane stands there, sipping from the glass. Thor latches onto the slut’s brassiere, tugging at it up and down like its the reign on a horse as he fucks and fucks and fucks. 

When he comes, he lets out a guttural groan, his cock pumping spurt after spurt of jizz into the whore’s insides, making the slut feel full.

He pulls out, pushing three fingers into the cunt, scooping his own cum and rubbing it on the whore’s face, smearing a bit under its nostrils so every breath is tinged with the scent of Thor.

Jane places the empty glass back on the tray, and in one hard motion, stuffs the pink plug into the whore’s pussy. 

“Here’s the fake cock you wanted,” she tells it. “Try not to leak over everything.”

Thanking them both, the whore limps away to the next resident.

*

It stops at the rec room to find Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov and Bucky Barnes. 

“Yeah!” Wilson croons. “Tony’s little whore is here. I was hoping to get another go at its cunt.”

"It’s got a real cunt now,” Nat says, as always, the most observant of the lot. “What did you do, whore?”

“I am being punished, ma’am,” it explains. “I need a plug for my leaking cunt.”

“Looks like you already have one,” she tugs away the skirt to expose his stuffed cunt to the room. 

“I need more,” it begs. “I need all the cocks in the world as I am a cock craving whore and my holes are leaking jizz.”

Wilson goes for his cock first. He pulls down the zipper, gets the big, black cock out and starts jerking it off. The whore salivates just looking at it.

“What’s the glasses for?” Barnes comes closer, examining the tray and its contents.

“I can offer a beverage in exchange for the cocks, please, sir -”

“Holy shit,” Barnes whistles in appreciation. “Stark gave it tits!”

He tugs at the knot until the bra unfastens, releasing its tits. The nipples firm up in the cold air of the room and Barnes puts his mouth to a teat right away. 

“God these boobs,” he says. “Fuck,” he groans, grabbing both the tits in his hands and squeezing. “If there were ever a pair made for _honka honka,”_ he squeezes again, moving them around in circles, burying his face between them.

The whore blushes.

“Please sir,” it begs.

“Fuck,” Barnes says. “Give the bitch what it wants. God, give it everything. Wilson, come take a ride.”

Nat steps up, quiet and soft behind the whore and pushes in one dainty hand into its gaping ass. 

“Still not loose enough for Thanos,” she tells the room. “Tony’s on a deadline. This punishment came at the right time.”

The whore swallows around the lump in its throat. The more everyone talks about Thanos and the gauntlet, the more terrified it feels. There isn’t much in the world that won’t fit in its gaping asshole anymore. It can’t imagine how big Thanos’ fist has gotta be.

“I have got a couple of dildos,” she tells the slut. “And I know Barnes keeps a vibrator in his room.”

The whore turns watery, pleading eyes to Barnes.

“Fine,” he grunts into its boobs. “I will give you all the fake cocks. Gonna first drink your tits dry.”

He latches on the right nipple and starts sucking, teeth biting into the tender flesh. The slut groans when Wilson steps up behind and inserts a finger alongside the pink dildo in its pussy.

“Beg for my cock, whore,” Wilson orders.

“Please fuck me,” it obeys. “Please, sir, please fuck me, please break me open with that big black -”

“Natasha?”

“I am going to get the fake cocks its gagging for,” she tells them. “Be right back. Don’t have all the fun without me.”

She leaves the room, her hips swinging. 

Wilson tugs the pink plug out of its pussy and stuffs its mouth with it. He takes its cunt from behind, thrusting in one long motion, sliding home with a satisfied groan.

“That’s perfect,” he says. “That’s fucking perfect. Your asscunt is a mess, man, this girl pussy is the most perfect hole, jesus, you’re still tight -”

“Tony’s gonna gape you pretty soon in every hole, so I am just glad I get my nuts off in your pussy before its a loose, worthless pisspot like your ass is.”

The whore flushes, trying to keep the glasses upright on the tray while Barnes squeezes his boobs like he’s going to suck it dry. As Wilson sets a brutal pace, thrusting in and out of its pussy, it groans and tries to hang on for dear life, stuck as it is between Barnes’ cruel teeth and Wilson’s cock.

With the pink plug in its mouth, it can’t even beg. Barnes takes care of it quick enough.

“Man, its got more than one hole. Stuff the plug in the pisspot and let me hear it moan,” he says, pulling out the pink plug from it’s face pussy and sneaking the metal hand around its waist to push it in into its gaping ass cunt. “Beg, little whore.”

“Please, please - oh god - please -”

“Is Tony making you whore out your pussy for fake cock?”

“Milk,” it shudders, as Barnes reattaches to the slut’s other nipple. It grasps one of the glasses and holds it up to Barnes gaze. “Milk.”

A smirk spreads on the man’s face. “Nice,” he says, letting the distended teat go. “He gets more and more creative every fucking day. Got the udders of a fucking cow, donchya?” 

“Ugh - please -”

“I asked you a simple question, bitch!” Barnes takes one tit in his palm and rains down slaps with the metal one on its teat. 

“Yes - sir, please - yes!”

“Yes, what?”

“I got udders - udders of f-ffucking cow!”

“Get me a drink,” Wilson grunts. “Might as well do something while rutting into its tight cunt. Perfect little cocksleeve.”

It takes the glass to its right nipple but Barnes smacks its hand, taking the glass from it. 

“I got it, slut,” he says, squeezing the right boob and roughly hovering near its nipple with his mouth open. A jet of milk hits the roof of his mouth, arcing out from its bulging tit. 

He drinks some more, before holding the glass to the same, tormented teat and pinches hard around the areola. Milk drips out, filling up the glass. Barnes holds it out to Wilson who takes it and drinks, hips barely pausing where his cock is beating up the whore’s sore cunt walls.

“Having fun, boys?” Natasha glides into the room, a small Macy’s bag dangling off of one finger. “I bought you your present, whore.” She tells it. 

The slut looks at her adoringly, eyes focused on the prize in her hand.

“Nat,” Wilson says. “Would you like a drink?”

“Ooh yes,” she answers. “Tony spent weeks on that custom serum. Gotta see if it’s any good.”

Barnes grabs the second glass off the tray and fills it up from the whore’s left teat, and it sighs in near relief that its right nipple is given a reprieve.

“Sex comes with drinks these days,” she laughs, accepting the half full glass from Barnes. 

“Only if you do it right,” Barnes answers. “Isn’t that right, milk cow?”

“Yes sir,” it nods.

“Gonna moo for us, bitch? You must moo for us. Come on,” 

“Moo -”

Barnes slaps its tits again, hard.

“Moo! Moo! Moo - please, please - moo!”

Wilson releases with a groan in its pussy, filling it up with its third load of the day. 

“Who’s already been in here, cunt?” Mr. Wilson asks, stuffing two fingers in its pussy alongside his cock and scratching at the velvet walls with a rough nail.

“Mister Stark,” it answers, trying to catch its breath. Barnes hasn’t stopped hitting its boobs, watching them swing like pendulums off its chest. “And Thor.”

“No Barton yet?”

It shakes its head.

“Putting it off, are you?” Nat asks. “He will make you regret that, you know that right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” it flushes.

“You can have the fake cocks,” she tells it, gesturing at the bag. “I threw in a little gift for Tony to use with you. But first,” she sits on the armchair, and spreads her legs, “make me cum.”

It’s awkward maneuvering around the jutting tray but it gets on its knees in front of the Black Widow, pushes up her skirt and presses its face where it belongs. Barnes and Wilson quietly rearrange themselves behind it. Barnes slides into its ass, alongside the pink plug and grabs onto its tits from behind, holding them and kneading them as he fucks in. 

“Dude, you’re definitely a tits man,” Wilson laughs at Barnes.

“Don’t I know it!” he answers. “Can’t get off in its fucking loose backhole ever, but now that I have got these sweet funbags in my hands, I am trying not to paint its fucking pisspot.”

Natasha holds on to the slut’s hair tightly, making it go where she wants it to go, nearly strangling it with her thighs, as its tongue enthusiastically starts probing. Wilson’s got his cock out again, jerking off above the whore’s face, precum dripping over its hair, nose and forehead. 

It hangs between them, lost in the sensation of being a hole, of being their little cumdumpster, as Ms. Romanoff comes around its slutty mouth. Barnes tortures its new tits, fucking into its sore, beaten ass alongside the large pink plug. It is not even a tight fit. Its ass cunt is a gaping mess. Soon, Mr. Wilson jerks off and cums all over its face and hair, white jizz streaking across its nose, eyes and forehead, dripping down its chin.

Barnes has cum into its asshole already, but he is still fucking in and out lazily. Natasha releases its cum covered face, and Mr. Wilson grabs it by the hair. The hole knows what Mr. Wilson will want now. It knows the kinks of all the tower residents.

“Go on, cumdrinker,” he orders. “Worship the cock that gave you all that jizz.”

The slut puts its mouth to Mr. Wilson’s big, black cock, cleaning it up, licking the underside, kissing every single inch before pressing a large, close-mouthed kiss to the head. Carefully, with its hands, it tucks him back in, doing the zipper up and kissing it again through the cloth. 

Barnes gets rougher with its ass, coming again into the gaping mess, squeezing its tits from behind. Natasha sits back in her armchair, and takes off her shoes, stretching her leg and pinching one milk leaking nipple between her toes. Milk dribbles down her foot, as she tortures the teat. Barnes squeezes, and she pinches, leaving the slut in agony.

“Fucking whore,” Barnes groans out, still shallowly thrusting into its gape, before the slut registers the wetness for what it is. Barnes is pissing into its little pisspot, adding the stream into the mess of cum. “Take it. Take it all.”

“Yes sir,” it groans, trying not to cum at the degradation. “Please piss into my asscunt, please sir - please -”

Barnes pulls out once he is done, and the slut collapses to the floor, too tired to stay on its hands and knees. It’s leaking filth into the floor from all its holes, face dripping with Mr. Wilson’s cum. 

Barnes helps pull it to its feet. He is always the one who is kindest to it after everyone’s done taking a turn in its holes. 

"Up you get, whore,” he says. “Come on, your master’s probably waiting for you. You have still got to see Barton, god bless your slutty ass.”

Barnes tugs the skirt back in place, and takes his time fixing its brassiere, playing with its tits and squeezing them again. “If Mr. Stark lets me,” he says, addressing the whore’s milk bags, “I will never stop honka honka-ing your fucking tits. I will put you on a fucking trampoline and just watch them bounce. Make you ride my dick while you play with these boobs.”

“Please,” it begs, because it wants - it _wants_ it all. 

“God, you pissdrinker,” Wilson pulls at its hair, “is there nothing that won’t turn you on? How’s Tony ever supposed to punish you if you fucking _enjoy_ everything?” 

Natasha ties the straps of the bra into a knot behind its neck.

The whore adjusts the tray against its chest, puts the empty glasses back on it and gets on its knees. 

“Please ma’am,” it begs, head bent down and arms outstretched above its head, “please, can I have your fake cocks?”

“Yes, you may, whore,” she answers, dropping the bag into its hands. “Go find Barton.”

*

“You sure took your time, dincha, hole?” 

Clint Barton is standing in the living room of his apartment, the black marble floor shining under his feet.

“Good thing your master called me the minute he set you out for your punishment,” he sneers, as the slut crawls on hands and knees toward him. “What do we have here?” 

He comes around the whore and takes in the skirt, the leaking new pussy, and the gaping, wet asscunt. 

“Like a goddamn gym sock,” he laughs, thrusting fingers into the whore’s ass alongside the pink plug. “So worn and useless. Is this piss?”

“Mr. Barnes’ sir,” it answers. 

“He doesn’t usually indulge,” Clint muses out loud. “Oh of course,” he slaps his forehead. “He is a tits man, isn’t he.”

“Yes sir,” it answers dutifully.

“I hear you were putting off coming to me for as long as possible,” he says, his voice deceptively calm that the whore feels its heart stop in its chest. _Oh, this was very bad._

“I am sorry, sir,” it says dutifully, knowing not to hope that Barton would feel merciful.

Barton’s fingers get rougher in its pussy, scraping at its sensitive walls with a rough nail. It lets out a slow, pained whine.

Barton grabs its hair with his other hand, tugging painfully. 

“What did you think, whore,” he says through gritted teeth, raising its head so the cumdrinker has to strain its neck awkwardly. “Did you think I was waiting around to fuck your saggy little pisspot?” 

It lets out another low whine, straining now to stay balanced on its knees. 

“Answer me, pisspot,” he orders, pulling his fingers out of its girl pussy and spanking the labia, hard.

“Ow - I am - ow, sorry sir,” it answers, trying not to edge away from Barton. If it tries to shy away, there would be hell to pay.

“You need putting in your place, worthless cumdump,” Barton says. “Need to learn you don’t get this cock. Your little cunt isn’t worth my cock. I’ll show you what you are, cocksleeve.”

The cocksleeve shudders, half frightened and half excited. Barton can get really creative with his punishments. And he sounds like he’s really offended.

Barton tugs off the tray and the strap around the whore’s neck, setting them aside and pushing the cunt’s face into the floor. 

“Take off that excuse of an outfit your master’s put you in,” he orders. The whore feels wetness slipping through its swollen cunt, anticipation make it tense up for more. The cumdump undoes the knot at the back of its neck, removing the little brassiere, and letting its bitch boobs hang free. One rough pull takes care of the skirt, split along the seam. The whore sets both items aside and presses its face back to the floor, licking the shiny black granite. 

“These are the funbags Barnes’ been waxing lyrical about?” he sneers. “I’ve seen better. Your milk carriers are big, but not big enough for me. Convince your master to give you triple Ds and we’ll talk. I’ll have your udders hanging so heavy you won’t be able to stand up straight.”

It whines, “Please, sir.”

“I am not gonna give you what you want, whore,” Barton states. “You don’t get my cock. You’re a little trash bag in which men empty their bladder, nothing more. I ain’t fucking your loose, gaping pussy.”

“Sir, please,” it begs. “Please, I will do anything. Please sir - I can - please - I can tighten up -”

“Want to still get fucked, doncha? Honka honka your boobs for yes, bitch.”

It dutifully takes its hands and grasps the tender bags of flesh, imitating the motion it had seen Barnes do less than half an hour ago. The motion causes drops of milk to seep out of its areolas.

“You’ll do anything for a cock in your holes right now, won’t ya?” 

It _honka-honkas_ its boobs again. More milk drips down its chest.

“Fine,” Barton says. “I’ll get you a cock. The kinda cock that actually belongs in a slutty cunt like yours. Hang tight, whore.”

He leaves the room, stepping inside the hallway to his bedroom and comes back, a leash in hand.

At the other end of the leash is a huge, black great dane. It’s teeth look ragged sharp, and it’s sniffing the air hopefully.

“This is Rocker,” Barton tells the whore. “Rocker is a prize stud. You know what that means, whore?”

The slut is shaking on its knees, feeling a brand of terror it hasn’t yet experienced in its games. It sees Barton come closer, the Great Dane trotting along at his side, taking a hopeful sniff. 

Barton grabs another fistful of the whore’s hair.

“I believe I asked you a question, whore,” he says. “Did you forget what you’re supposed to do to say yes?”

With shaking hands, the cumdump grabs both tits and _honka-honkas_ again.

“You know what a prize stud is?” Barton asks again, running a more gentle hand down the slut’s back. _Breathe,_ his fingers are saying. _Breathe. You know you can get out of this if you want. Breathe._

Slowly, the whore relaxes enough to keep its head. Barton’s asked it a question again. It knows what a prize stud is.

Gripping its tits, it _honka-honkas_ again.

“Told you you ain’t worthy of a man’s cock,” he says. “That’s cause you’re Rocker’s bitch. Rocker’s gonna breed you like a whore, and make you whelp a litter. Your bitch boobs are gonna have pups latched on before you can say _you’re a fucking cumdump_. Isn’t that right, whore?”

Another question. It _honka-honkas_ its boobs again, ignoring the trickle of milk.

“Spread your legs for Rocker, bitch,” Barton comes around to the whore’s back, tugging an interested looking Rocker along. “He’s going in your new girl pussy. Your gaping asscunt is too loose even for Rocker’s huge knot.”

The whore can’t stop shaking. It’s about to take a real knot. An actual, real knot. 

“You didn’t think Tony would leave your new pussy tight for long, did you?” Barton laughs, seeming to read the cumdump’s mind. “What use is a tight hole in a cheap whore, slut? Spread your fucking whore legs.”

It complies, putting its shoulders down to the floor and raising its ass, presenting its holes so that the Great Dane can mount it.

The whore hears Barton coaxing and positioning the dog, and feels the press of the heavy weight of the creature on its back. It feels the dog sniff at the pink plug still resting in its wrecked asshole, but Barton redirects the stud’s attention to the cumdump’s tighter offering.

“What are you, whore?” Barton asks from behind the cumdump.

“Rocker’s bitch, sir,” it answers, closing its eyes at the burn as Rocker’s cock slides home, tearing open the slut’s new pussy. It can’t hold back now, it screams in pain, the degradation amplifying every feeling, setting every nerve ending on fire.

“Take the doggy cock, bitch,” Barton says, moving in front of the whore again and sitting down in one of the armchairs. He pulls his cock out through his fly and starts jerking off, watching the whore take a dog cock. “Take every inch. God, this is hotter than it has any right to be.”

The milk cow’s tits hang and swing with every thrust. The Great Dane is thrusting with enough force to physically slide the slut’s knees across the floor, pushing the tableau forward. The slut can’t gain any control. It’s barely coherent, trying to stay conscious, trying to not be split open in two, the scent of doggie drool filling its nostrils. 

“List the cocks you have taken in your doggie cock chamber, whore,” Barton demands, hand flying at his own cock. 

The whore can’t even parse the question. All it knows is the _in, out, in, out, in, out_ of the dog’s cock - its stud’s cock in its pussy.

“I won’t ask again, Rocker’s bitch,” Barton threatens. “What cocks have you taken today in your little girl pussy?”

“Ma - ma - hic - master,” it grunts out, every syllable costing a mountain of effort. 

“Tony always gets to pop your cherry,” Barton agrees. “Did you bleed?”

“Y - yes.”

He reaches out with one hand and lands a hard, stinging slap across its bitch face. Rocker continues to thrust away, rapid and unstopping.

“You supposed to say yes to me, whore? Whatcha supposed to do?”

The whore starts sobbing. Everything - it’s all - everything is too much. 

“Did you bleed, whore?” Barton sits back in his chair. “When your master tore through your new pussy with his cock, did you bleed for him like a good bitch?”

Collapsing, letting its shoulders take the weight of the thrusting dog, it removes his hands from where they’re pressed on the floor and reaches for the boobs squished against the floor. Each boob is a handful. Gripping tightly, groaning in pain and pleasure at the pounding of its pussy, it manages to _honka honka_ in answer to Barton’s question.

_Yes, it bled for its master like a good bitch._

“Who else, whore?” Barton is toying with the head of his cock with his thumb. The whore wants it in its mouthpussy _so bad._

“Th - Thor,” it answers before Barton can get mad again. “Thor!”

“God of Thunder was in the same hole that Rocker is in,” Barton chuckles. “I must remember to tell Jane. She’ll like that, won’t she, cocksleeve?”

It _honka honkas_ again. Barton’s being careful to ask it yes or no questions, to make it answer _YES._ The residents of the tower trained it out of saying NO months ago.

“Who else, pisspot?”

“Wilson,” it gasps out, as it feels Rocker pause behind it, releasing gushes of cum into its vagina. The semen feels hot against its sore channel. Rocker paints its sore insides, cumming long and hard enough to make the whore feel full, like its guts are filling up with the fluid and swelling with child. 

Swelling with Rocker’s pups.

“No Barnes? Which hole did Barnes empty his balls in, whore?”

The slut doesn’t know how it is still conscious. It prays for release from this torture. It prays for this to never end. At the same moment, Rocker’s cock starts to swell, stretching its pussy white around the dog cock. The whore groans at the burn.

The knot pushes in and tugs, holding on tight. Rocker slumps on the slut’s back, licking the skin under its nose, moving its hips in little motions that start to drive the whore insane.

“Stop drooling for doggie cock and answer me, cocksleeve,” Barton barks. “Which hole did Barnes empty his balls in?”

“My asshole,” the whore manages. 

“What’s it really, cocksleeve?”

The whore can’t think. Barton likes to call its holes different names. Usually the whore remembers. But there’s a doggie knot in its pussy and the whore can’t think.

“My - my asspussy -”

“Do better. What’s it really?”

“Piss- pisspot.”

“Warmer,” Barton jerks his cock hard, panting from the effort now. He’s close.

“Urinal,” the whore manages to answer, finally understanding where Barton’s going with this. “I am the tower’s portable toilet, sir.”

Barton comes all over the slut’s face. It dutifully keeps its mouthpussy hanging open to catch any stray drops of cum. It’s a greedy cumbucket. It never says no to more cum.

Globs of the stuff drip down its forehead, and eyelashes. Barton’s emptied a huge load on the whore’s face. A trail runs down the slut’s nose and drips down, which it catches on the edge of its tongue.

“Jarvis,” Barton says hoarsely once he’s caught his breath. “Get pictures and send to Phil, would you? Copy Tony.”

“Processing,” Jarvis answers. “Sent.”

Barton gets up off the chair, and comes around, helping Rocker’s reducing erection slip out of the bitch’s pussy. The cold air in the room hits its gaping insides, and it hates the emptiness right away. 

“Remember how I told you you don’t get this cock?” Barton slaps its ass. “That’s cause you’re Rocker’s breeding bitch, and -” Barton spreads its asscheecks with his hands, “- the tower’s port-a-potty.” 

He pushes the head of his cock to the edge of the whore’s girl pussy, the labia pressing softly around his cockhead. Holding himself there, he starts pissing into the slutty urinal’s new hole. 

“Take it, worthless pussy,” he orders. “You worthless fuckhole.”

The whore cries into the floor, letting out loud, pathetic little sobs.

Barton fills it up with urine, and tilts its hips up to keep the liquid from running down its legs. He tugs out the pink plug roughly out of its asspussy and thrusts it into the fleshy pink hole, keeping Rocker’s seed and his piss locked up tight in the whore’s vagina. 

“I think you enjoyed that, didn’t you, whore?” he asks, chuckling.

The response is practically automatic. 

It reaches for its bitch boobs and _honka-honkas_ a YES.

*

“Oh there you are,” Master smiles when it crawls on its hands and knees into the kitchen. He is sitting on one of the high stools at the counter, scrolling through his emails that JARVIS is helpfully projecting on the marble top.

It is sore, it has cum and piss dripping out of its holes, and it stinks of dog, but just seeing master makes it feel all warm inside. The last few hours of punishment are all worth it. Master will forgive it for cumming without permission. It took its sentence, it got all its worthless cumdump holes fucked and now master will pick it up and take care of it. 

It’s more than it deserves.

The brown paper bag with all the fake cocks hangs from its teeth. Jane’s pink plug is in its throbbing pussy, where Agent Barton stuffed it so to keep his piss from flowing down its thighs. 

It crawls to master’s feet, putting its ugly head between his legs, and rubbing its cheek against his calf.

“A full bag, huh?” he says, running his fingers through its cum crusted hair. “Were you a good whore for these fake dicks?” He takes the bag from between its lips. “Did you rent out your hole and beg for toys, slut?”

It nods, putting its mouth (now that it’s free) to master’s shoes, kissing and licking the dark leather. It wishes master gave it permission to take off his shoes. It could worship his feet to show how sorry it is.

“There’s a dozen cocks in here,” master says, laying out the contents of the bag on the counter top. “Tasha’s added a nice long zucchini. Nice job, whore. Did everyone drink from your bitch tits? Did they drink you dry? I bet Wilson made you moo like the milk cow you are.”

It nods again, flushing. Encouraged, it starts depositing another layer of saliva on master’s left shoe, to give it a second polish.

“Come on,” master tugs on the whore’s hair, “let’s go start your punishment.”

It goes still. _What._

_What._

Master laughs. “Stupid, dumb blonde,” he laughs, “did you think whoring out your holes for cocks was your punishment? That’s just Tuesday for you, cum dump. Nah, I have got something else planned for you.”

For a moment, for just one tiny, microscopic moment that seemingly stretched to eternity, the bitch considers its safeword. 

But it’s getting wet between its legs, its cow udders are perking up, and it really _wants_ to be good for master.

“Whore,” master crouches down beside it on the floor, tilting up its chin and looking at its eyes. Master knows it inside and out. One instant of hesitation is enough to get him to double check. A confirmation.

Master must see the desire in the bitch’s eyes, so he gets back up.

“Come on then, whore,” he says. “Can’t have you thinking you can just cum whenever you want like a bitch in heat.”

*

It is tied up on all fours, mounted on a round metal platform in the common kitchen of the Tower, with a heavy, industrial strength fucking machine pounding at its back door. Mr. Stark has taped together all the plugs and dildos that the cockwarmer collected, and mounted the gigantic ass wrecker on the end of the piston so it can tear into the slut’s little gape. 

The whore can’t think straight. From the moment master mounted the hole beater on the end of the fucking machine, and made the slut impale itself on the monster, it’s failed to form a coherent thought. Its mouth is wide open, drooling. The huge phallus is pounding away, beating its walls into pulp, making it keen and whine.

Master let Jane’s little pink plug stuff the hole’s new pussy, keeping Hawkeye’s piss and doggie cum in the sore little cum chamber. It clenches its cunt around the thin pink phallus, trying to retain some grip on reality by clenching its girl pussy. It’s useless back hole is never going to close up.

Master’s plan is readily apparent. The whore must be _finally_ loose enough for Thanos’ giant fist.

The machine pounds away. _In. Out. In. Out. In. Out._ The little cunt came without permission like a whore. So master is ruining its fuck hole, making sure it can never close its backdoor ever again.

Master’s set this up in the common kitchen, and put up a gloryhole screen in front of it. A thin plaster wall with a round shape cut out for it to rest its face, along with two half moon holes set right below for its breasts, hanging out of the little cavities where people can latch on its udders for a drink. 

In bold, blue sharpie, master’s written neat, block letters above the glory hole. _**Dairy Cow!**_  

All day, people in the tower have been getting blowjobs and taking a drink from its huge, dangling udders. The bitch has replaced the milk in the fridge. Nobody’s so much as opened the fridge while their little milk cow is right here. It has sucked off nearly every cock in the building, its face covered in cum, the white mess dripping off its eyelashes. 

The whore didn’t know today was visitors’ day at Stark’s Tower. It’s taken at least a hundred cocks. 

It doesn’t - it can’t - everything is blurring. Nothing seems to matter other than the soreness in its back hole, its pisspot getting ravaged by all the fake cocks it begged for. 

It weeps. 

The camera on the far wall turns and zooms in, recording it all for posterity.

~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly guys, getting a little tired of the you will go to hell comments that I have to keep deleting.  
> Are you seriously telling me that you scrolled past the list of warnings, read this shit anyway and then came and told me how the content offended you? SERIOUSLY? 
> 
> The rest of you readers - I am so glad you all have been loving on this story! Keep telling me how you feel cause writing this gets a little hard sometimes, and I really want to get out the chapter with Thanos (coming next).
> 
>  
> 
> **Next Chapter is loving aftercare, and pulls OUT of this universe. If you would prefer to stay in this universe, skip the next chapter.**
> 
>  
> 
> My next update will be Thanos, and I will most likely be done after that.  
> Thank you for your support.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving aftercare. Sequel to chapter 5.  
> For KL, who can only take so much of the torture I put Steve through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Similar to chapter 3, this chapter contains loving aftercare as a sequel to the really INTENSE shit I put Steve through in Chapter 5. If you prefer to stay in the universe I have created in chapter 5 and don't want a drop in intensity, and you don't want to see Steve as anything other than the cumdumpster I have shown him as, STOP SCROLLING NOW and leave.
> 
> Contains: Aftercare, hurt/comfort, subspace.

“JARVIS,” Tony says, turning on the lights in the kitchen. “Talk to me.”

“Respiration normal,” JARVIS answers. “All vitals within optimum parameters. But approach gently. He is down.”

“Yeah no kidding,” Tony murmurs, coming up behind the glory hole wall of plaster and gently running a hand through Steve’s hair. “You’re just floating away, aren’t ya buddy?” 

He is gratified to see Steve lean in closer to his touch, but his blue irises are thinner than Tony's ever seen them. He quietly makes Jarvis turn off the machine, and gently pulls Steve off the phallus. 

Steve winces, and some awareness returns to his eyes.

There's recognition.

"Ma - master -"

"Yeah baby," he coos, "I am right here. You're okay. Come back to me. You did so well, my darling. You were perfect."

"W - was good?"

"You were so good for me," he kisses Steve's forehead, ignoring the semen and various fluids covering him. "You were perfect." 

He presses an open water bottle to Steve's lips. "Take a sip, go on, slowly now, there you go."

"Master."

"I am Tony, baby," he corrects. "Just Tony. Come on, I know you can come back to me."

He lets him drink a couple more sips.

"I am s- ss - sorry."

"You got nothing to be sorry for, babe," he tries to comfort his lover. "It's over. You got punished. You took it really well. You're forgiven. Everything's okay."

"Didn't - didn't - mean to come."

"I know. Things got intense, huh?"

"New p-parts," he flushes. "Couldn't hold off."

"That's okay, hottie," Tony eases Steve to sit on the platform, taking the weight off his knees. "You were perfect. Come on, let's go to our room now. I love you so much, darling."

"L- love - love you too."

Tony gently gets Steve to his feet but the man is swaying where he's standing. Calling the armor, Tony gets in the metal cocoon just so he can pick Steve up and carry him to their bedroom. 

"Shhh, it's just the armor baby," he promises. "Not gonna hurt you."

The sight of the armor loosens something in Steve, and he slides to his knees beside the platform, like he's preparing to take the metal cock in his mouth.

"Baby, no, you don't need to -" Tony's heart breaks. "Jarvis, he's really out of it."

"Indeed, sir," Jarvis answers. "I recommend you take him to the bedroom and give him some private care."

Stepping into the armor, Tony picks Steve up off the floor, taking him in a bridal carry. Steve clings, and throws his arms around the suit's neck, hiding his face against his chest.

"Shh, I got you," Tony flies them directly into their en suite bathroom where's JARVIS has filled the bath with hot water. He gently sets Steve on the little vanity, his back to the mirror. The moment Tony lets him out of his arms, Steve slides down to the floor, going to his knees. 

"Baby," Tony says, trying to keep his voice gentle. He knows what to do when Steve goes so far down he can't seem to come back up. The first step is to reassure Steve that they're really alone, with privacy and safety. He steps out of the armor and sends the suit away, leaving them completely alone. 

Then, he gently tugs Steve up by his shoulders. 

"I want you to get up and sit on the counter for me, Steve," he suggests, remembering to keep his voice soft. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

Steve complies immediately, and Tony knows that in this state, Steve will do anything if Tony asks.

He climbs up on the vanity and sits, even though his ass has gotta be hurting him like crazy. 

"I am going to take the plug out of you now, okay?" he asks. "Look at me, baby," he prompts, and keeps Steve's gaze on him when he tugs the pink plug out. Steve gasps, and goes red at the rush of liquid coming out of his hole.

"Shhh, you're okay," Tony reassures him. "Come on, into the bath."

Steve resists that order, and whines, cause he doesn't want to let go.

"Baby," Tony says sternly. "I will be with you in the bath. You can hold on to me. Come on,"

They gently lower themselves in, and Tony settles against the wall of the tub, keeping Steve against his chest, sitting between his legs. He gently works shampoo and body wash, cleaning up his sweetheart, washing his hair and massaging his thighs. 

Recognition comes back to Steve's eyes slowly, and when it does, Tony's nearly done. He pulls Steve up and out of the water, wrapping him in a thick, plushy towel and drying him up. He's got Steve in a bathrobe when Steve finally manages a coherent thought.

"T- Tony?"

"There you are," Tony smiles, throwing the towel in the hamper. "Are you back with me now?"

"Y- yeah," he answers. "Why did we - we stopped?"

"Come on," he tugs Steve out of the bathroom and into their bed, letting him settle back against the pillows. "Need a plug?" 

Steve goes red, and after everything they have gone through together, Tony cannot believe Steve still flushes around him. 

"No," Steve shakes his head. "I can't - it hurts -"

"I know baby," Tony climbs onto the bed from the other side and slides close to Steve, holding him. 

"I want to - feel it," Steve says, and Tony nods. "We stopped?"

"Things were getting intense," Tony explains. "I used my veto card, and decided we needed a break. I was worried when - was I imagining it, or did you hesitate in the kitchen?"

Steve shakes his head. "I did," he says. "But I wanted to - I wanted."

"Yeah, I figured," Tony kisses his hair. "But I still think you needed a break. You can rest up tonight, and we can talk about it some more tomorrow, okay?"

"We stopped - I screwed up?"

"No honey," Tony jumps to reassure him. "You were perfect, my darling. You were so good. You blew my fucking mind. If only you could look at yourself. Sweetheart, your punishment is over, okay? I promise."

"Really?"

"Baby, what can I do to make you believe me? What do you want? Go on, you're allowed to ask."

Steve thinks about that one for nearly a full minute. Tony lets him have his time. 

"K - kiss me," he asks, shy and hesitant, and goddamn it, Tony is the luckiest bastard on the planet.

He leans in, and kisses Steve, soft and gentle, tongue prodding at his lips, seeking entry. Considering all the filthy, depraved things they do together, they don't actually kiss all that often. 

When they break apart, Steve's eyes are drooping, and he's already falling asleep.

"You're fucking perfect," he whispers into Steve's skin and tugs the blanket over them both, content in their warm nest.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter coming up is Thanos.
> 
> Your reviews keep me going.  
> How was it? Want it to be filthier? cleaner? What kinks am I not including? What should I write more? Tell me in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> You read the tags. You clicked. You got till here. Do you really think I am the one to blame at this point? Yeah, no. I will see you in hell.
> 
> For the rest of you degenerates, if you want more, leave prompts in the comments.


End file.
